Mysterious Ways
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: 100 love stories about the ways we fall in love.
1. Sweet Daydreams

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Love In Motion (LorcanLucy)_

 _Writing Club-_

 _Showtime, "Blow Them All Away" (Next Gen)_

 _Days of the Month, World Dream Day (write about someone daydreaming)_

 _Word Count: 429_

* * *

His hand hovers over the boxes of Pepper Imps when he notices her. Somehow, Lorcan feels as though his soul has left his body. His mind wanders, and his eyes focus on Lucy.

Lucy. Lovely Lucy. Sweet Lucy.

" _I don't know why you're in Honeydukes," he says, moving closer, amazed by how steady his heartbeat is. "You're already sweet enough."_

 _Lucy blushes. She covers her mouth with her hand, a soft giggle bubbling from her lips. "I never knew you were so smooth, Lorcan."_

He shakes his head, clearing his throat. His cheeks burn, but he somehow manages to deal with it.

"Pepper Imps?" Lucy asks, appearing at his side. The warm smile on her lips takes his breath away. "Those are pretty hot."

 _He wraps an arm around, wearing a confident smirk. "I guess you'd be an expert on hotness," he says. "After all, you're the hottest girl at Hogwarts."_

 _Lucy presses closer to him, her sweet floral perfume filling his nostrils. "Have you always been this charming, Lor?" she asks, looking up at him through thick, dark lashes._

"I, uh…" Lorcan drops his hand. It would be easier to concentrate if his mind would stop drifting off. "I like the heat."

"You okay, Lorcan? You look like you might faint."

 _He laughs, the epitome of casual flirtation. "I just might. How about we skip the hospital wing and you just play Healer, babe?"_

He clears his throat again, a cold sweat beading his forehead. Biting his lip, Lorcan wipes the perspiration away with his sleeve. "Fine. I'm fine," he assures her. "Should probably eat some chocolate."

Lucy gestures at the shelves of sweets with a small smirk. "I guess you're in the right place then," she says gently. "I'd better go. Molly is waiting for me."

She grabs a box of Chocolate Frogs and starts to walk to the counter. Lorcan swallows dryly. He's spent years admiring her from afar. Maybe he'll never be the smooth guy of his daydreams, but he should be able to at least ask her out.

Lorcan groans. He wishes his palms wouldn't sweat like this and that his stomach would stop feeling so acidic. "Now or never," he mutters, striding over.

"Lucy," he calls, approaching the counter as the girl gets her change.

She turns, brows raised. "Yes?"

"Do you… Would you like to get a butterbeer with me? As a date?" he manages somehow.

Lucy grins, her cheeks stained the most beautiful shade of delicate pink Lorcan has ever seen. "I'll let Molly know there's been a change of plans."


	2. Relationship Advice

_Written for the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Writing Club, Showtime "Aaron Burr, Sir" ("Talk less, smile more.")_

 _Roald Dahl Event (Word: impossible; ticket prompts: Bell, fancy, bad, flower)_

 _Love in Motion (LuciusNarcissa)_

 _523 words_

* * *

"Talk less," Bellatrix says sagely. "Smile more. It will show him you're the perfect little Pureblood, darling Cissy."

Andromeda snorts, eyes rolling. "That's terrible advice," she says flatly. "If she does that, Lucius won't know anything about her."

Narcissa looks between her sisters. Bellatrix is the oldest, so there's no way her advice can be bad, she decides. "Just… smile?"

"And talk as little as possible," Bellatrix confirms.

The youngest of the three nods, swallowing dryly. It seems like pretty sound advice. Lucius was brought up to care for the traditional things, just like Narcissa. Surely he will see her behaving like a meek Pureblood, and it will be enough to make him fall in love with her.

"I think I'm ready," Narcissa decides, lacing her fingers together, trying for a smile.

"I can hear the wedding bells already," Bellatrix assures her.

…

"And that's when Father told me- Narcissa, are you okay?"

Narcissa smiles sweetly, nodding. "Perfectly fine."

His eyes narrow slightly. The corners of his lips turn downward into an uncertain frown. Narcissa makes an impatient gesture for him to continue the story, but he doesn't.

Her heart hammers in her chest. Has she somehow managed to ruin the evening already? She doesn't understand how. She's done everything Bellatrix suggested.

"You're quiet," he explains. "And, while you have a beautiful smile, you usually don't smile this much."

"I'm just showing my interest in what you have to say," she assures him, inwardly groaning. What if she's said too much now?

Lucius is quiet for a moment. They pass by the lake, and Narcissa shivers as a chilly breeze tickles her skin. "Do you know why I enjoy your company?" he asks, pulling his jacket off and draping it over her shoulders.

Dozens of generic responses come to mind, all things Narcissa has heard from a handful of admirers over the years. _You're beautiful. You're pretty. We'll have the loveliest babies together one day._

Somehow, she has the feeling these aren't the answers Lucius is looking for. Narcissa shakes her head, remaining silent.

"You were always so witty," Lucius answers. "I loved that about you. There's this passion when you speak; have you ever noticed? Your eyes light up, and your smile reaches your eyes a little more."

Narcissa feels the gentle heat creep into her cheeks. Her lips quirk into a faint smile. "You like it when I talk?" she asks. "When I have opinions?"

Lucius laughs, pausing to pluck a pink flower from the ground. He tucks it behind Narcissa's ear, nodding. "I love it. It's why I fancy you."

Her heart flutters like mad in her chest. Getting Lucius to fall in love with her has always seemed like an impossible task, and yet… "All I had to do was be myself?"

"You're the girl I care for, so I'd rather you not be someone else," he whispers before cupping her face in his hands and leaning closer, their lips meeting in a chaste kiss.

…

"For the record," Narcissa tells Andromeda, "I'm coming to you for relationship advice from now on."

Her older sister smirks. "Told you so."


	3. Garden in the Sky

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Roald Dahl Event (tangerine jeans: color- tangerine)_

 _Love in Motion (PercyAudrey)_

 _Word Count: 502_

* * *

"Is it time?" Audrey asks, feeling around until she finds Percy's hand in the darkness.

"It is," he confirms. "The sun has just started setting."

Audrey smiles to herself as she allows her husband to guide her. Despite her blindness, she has learned to navigate their home easily, and though she doesn't need to hold his hand, it's become a tradition.

She hears the subtle creak as the door opens and snorts. Percy keeps promising to oil the hinge, but he's always so busy with work. Really, that familiar sound has become so commonplace that she might not know what to do if he ever does fix it.

The gentle breeze tickles her skin. The scent of flowers and freshly cut grass fill her nose. Her heart aches a bit. She's always loved being outside, and she misses those beautiful explosions of color.

What she misses the most, however, is watching the sunset. The first time she told Percy this, he marched her outside and watched the colors change on her behalf. After that, he began describing the sunset for her. It's been three years since she lost her sight during the war, but she can still recall each shade and tint so vividly.

"It's jasmine and tangerine right now," he tells her.

Audrey smiles, recalling the vibrant orange, the gentle yellow. She's always loved the way Percy describes everything. It isn't just simple colors, but specific shades; using only his voice, he paints such a beautiful picture for her.

"Tangerine is my favorite," she tells him, snuggling into his chest.

Percy presses a kiss to the top of her head. "I know," he chuckles.

She snuggles closer, a small smile on her lips. A comfortable silence hangs between them as they wait for the shifts in color.

"There are streaks of rose and violet now," he announces.

"Rose and violet," she echoes. "A garden in the sky."

She tilts her head back, the colors in her mind. If she uses her imagination, she can pretend that she's really seeing her beloved sunset again.

"It's darkening now," Percy says. "The edges look inky, and I can see the first star of the night now. Make a wish."

Audrey shakes her head. "I already have everything I want," she laughs. "I don't have anything else to wish for."

"Really?"

She nods. The first few months without her sight had been hell. She'd cursed the universe for taking away something so dear. As time went on, however, she had learned to live without it. Then Percy came along, and everything seemed to fall into place; everything was perfect.

"I have you, a home, and we'll meet our sweet Molly Grace in a few months," she says, turning to him. It takes a moment to find her husband's lips, but she manages. Her lips brush against his in a chaste kiss. "I have everything I could ever want."

He holds her closer, and she breathes in his familiar scent of sandalwood and pine. "Me too."


	4. Inevitable

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Writing Club- Themed List (Leaky Cauldron)_

 _Roald Dahl Event: Main Smokestack (write about a character smoking)_

 _Word Count: 422_

* * *

Regulus sits in a dark corner of the Leaky Cauldron. His trembling fingers fumble for the pack of cigarettes in pocket. The rush of nicotine is the only thing that can calm him now. The hours pass by, and he draws closer and closer to the moment he will take the Mark.

"Bad habit," Barty muses, taking a seat across from him.

Regulus smirks, tucking the filter between his lips and lighting it, inhaling the robust flavor of the tobacco. He exhales a puff of greyish white. "We all have our little addictions."

Even in the dim lighting, he can see the sudden hint of pink staining his lover's cheeks. Regulus tries not to laugh. He already knows Barty's addiction. From the first moment their lips met in their third year, Barty was hopelessly addicted to the Slytherin.

"Does it help?" Barty asks, lifting his glass and taking a deep drink of whatever Tom has as the pub's special today.

Regulus shrugs. "Doesn't hurt," he decides. "What about the alcohol?"

"Not the best idea. Watch; I'll be the one to puke on-"

He cuts himself off when Regulus flashes him a warning look. Poor Barty. He's always been a touch careless and just a bit stupid. Really, Regulus is shocked he ended up in Ravenclaw and not Gryffindor.

Regulus takes another drag from the cigarette, leaning back as he sends another cloud of smoke into the air. "It's going to be okay," he says.

"How do you know?"

Regulus rolls his eyes, flicking the filter and sending a shower of ashes drifting into the crystal ashtray before him. "Because I have you. That's all I need to get through anything."

He watches in amusement as Barty's blush darkens. He knows he shouldn't find it so funny. After all, the other man has been so starved for his father's affection that even the smallest compliment from a man can send him over the edge.

Barty grips Regulus' free hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing Regulus' knuckles. "Are you ready?"

Regulus plucks the cigarette from his lips, his stomach souring. There's only one good drag left on it, and he's already gone through an entire pack, trying to prolong the inevitable. It's now or never, he realizes.

Grudgingly, Regulus crushes the cigarette in the ashtray, nodding. He tightens his grip on his lover's hand, offering him a shaky smile.

He has Barty. That should be enough.

He prays that it is because there's no turning back once they leave the Leaky Cauldron.


	5. Sneaking Out

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Writing Club, Showtime "What Comes Next?" (query)_

 _Roald Dahl Event (clock room: Write about someone who is late)_

 _Love in Motion (AlbusScorpius)_

 _Word Count: 414_

* * *

In the distance, Albus can hear the clock strike midnight. He sighs, slumping against the railing of the Astronomy Tower, trying to ignore how heavy his heart feels.

Scorpius should have been here half an hour ago. At least, he should have if he feels the same. Albus had hoped for the impossible, and now there's no shaking the disappointment that seems to burrow beneath his skin.

He should have known. Scorpius has always been his best friend, and the idea of becoming more is better suited for those romance novels Victoire likes so much. Now, Albus is certain he's lost that as well. Why would Scorpius want to remain friends now that he knows how Albus really feels?

"Albus?"

His heart drops to his stomach. Albus doesn't realize he's been holding his breath until he exhales. Slowly, hesitantly, he turns, unable to fight a smile when he sees Scorpius there. Silver moonlight washes over him, and it almost takes Albus' breath away.

"You're late," Albus manages, his voice quiet, barely a breath.

A rosy glow paints the other boy's cheeks. His lips quirk, and he offers Albus an apologetic smile. "I'm not good at sneaking out like you," he says. "Nearly got caught twice. I had to hide behind a statue for ten minutes."

Albus laughs, trying to imagine that. It isn't hard. Scorpius has always been too clumsy for stealth.

Silence hangs between them. Albus swallows dryly, shuffling his feet awkwardly. "You got my note, then," he says quietly.

"I did. And I'm here," Scorpius confirms.

Albus smiles. The nerves have faded, and now something seems to flutter in his stomach. He can hardly believe it. With a soft laugh, he shifts his gaze to where the other boy stands. "Do you…? Are you sure…?" He can't seem to form a full query; he only hopes that Scorpius understands.

Scorpius steps closer. His hand finds Albus', his thumb brushing softly over the skin. "Since first year," he admits.

"Me too."

The confession feels as though a weight has been lifted. Still, he almost wants to cry. They've cared for one another since first year, and yet they've kept these feelings tucked way for four years. "Think of everything we've missed out on," Albus muses softly.

Scorpius closes the distance between them with a single step. His lips find Albus', and Albus worries he might melt. He's never been kissed before, but this feels so right. "Well, we can start now," Scorpius whispers.


	6. Head Injuries and Chocolate Lovers

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Roald Dahl Event (Coughable Items: Write something set in the hospital wing)_

 _Love in Motion (DracoAstoria)_

 _Word Count: 483_

* * *

A strange crinkling sound draws Draco out of his sleep. With a groan, he sits up, confusion blurring his mind as he takes everything in. He's in the hospital wing. Flickers of Quidditch practice flash through his head, and he's almost certain he'd fallen at some point.

But the most confusing sight is the brunette girl perched at the end of his bed, nibbling a Chocolate Frog. It takes Draco a moment to place her, but it dawns on him. Astoria Greengrass, Daphne's little sister.

She shifts her gaze away from her snack, offering him a smile. Melted chocolate dots her lips. "Good morning," she says brightly. "Daphne sent these. Hope you don't mind I had one… or five."

Still confused, Draco glances at the small pile of wrappers at the foot of his bed. "What-?"

"Do you need anything?" she asks sweetly, finishing the Chocolate Frog in one great, swift bite.

"What happened?" he manages.

"Bludger bat slipped. Your head happened to stop it," she explains. "Flint was livid."

Draco leans back, sinking back into the the comfort of his bed. Cautiously, he presses a finger to his head, feeling around until he finds a tender spot. Wincing, he hisses.

"Cracked skull," Astoria adds.

"Pomfrey tell you all this?" he asks skeptically.

He doesn't even know Astoria. Sure, he's seen her around in the common room, but they've never spoken until now.

"Flint did," she answers, grabbing another Chocolate Frog. Draco wonders how someone as tiny as she is can manage to eat so many sweets without getting sick. "Well, he told Daph. I think he fancies her."

Draco nods but doesn't answer. His head still pounds from the aftereffects of his injury. He's certain the Healer has already treated his wounds, but he's still sore. Maybe Astoria's chatter should bother him, but he finds her presence surprisingly comfortable.

"Has anyone ever told you you're cute when you sleep?" the younger Slytherin asks between bites of the chocolate.

The question catches Draco off guard. He peers up at her, unsure if he's heard her correctly.

To his surprise, Astoria doesn't seem to become shy at his lack of reaction. She finishes the last of the chocolate and climbs to her feet, gathering the wrappers. "Just an interesting fact," she offers, tossing the trash into a bin. "Much more pleasant than the arrogant sod act you have going for you."

Before Draco reacts, she winks at him and turns, walking away with a sway of her lips. Draco watches her retreating figure, absolutely gobsmacked. Only when she disappears through the door can he bring himself to speak. "I'm not arrogant..."

Still, despite the strangeness of the encounter, he finds himself smiling. He makes a vow to himself that when he gets released from the hospital wing, he's going to find Astoria Greengrass and show her he can be cute when he's awake too.


	7. Rest

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Writing Club, Showtime, "The Story of Tonight" (the Hog's Head)_

 _Word Count: 344_

* * *

"I'm surprised to see you've stepped away from the school," Aberforth notes.

Poppy offers him a tired smile. She looks dead on her feet. Of course, Aberforth can hardly blame her. Since the battle ended, he's had a nonstop stream of business in his pub. Tending to his patrons is easy enough. But Poppy has had her hands full, tending to the countless wounded over the past several hours.

"St. Mungo's sent Healers," she says with a yawn, standing on her tiptoes and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I'm a free woman for now."

Aberforth wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly for a moment. She's a tough woman, but he still can't shake the overwhelming relief that she's alive, that she's survived without a scratch on her. "Coffee?" he asks. It isn't something he keeps on hand often, but he will always make an exception for his beloved Poppy.

"I don't want to be awake anymore," she tells him, shuddering.

He can't imagine the things that she's seen. The people she's seen to have been her friends, students she's cared for, past and present. So many wounded, so many dead. If that had been his reality, he can imagine that he wouldn't want to be awake anymore either. "Firewhisky?" he offers.

"I have a sleeping potion," she assures him with a soft smile.

"Have you eaten?"

"You worry too much."

He shrugs. "And you didn't answer my question. I have it on good authority that you didn't take a break for hours. You need to eat."

"Abe-"

"If you don't take care of yourself, who's going to take care of those kids?"

Almost grudgingly, Poppy takes a seat at the bar, brows raising. "I guess I'm lucky to know you'll take care of me," she chuckles, resting her head on the bar, her eyes so heavy that Aberforth doubts she'll ever need a sleep potion.

He strokes her hair, smiling to himself. "If I'm lucky, I'll always be able to care for you."

And he really hopes that he will.


	8. Love Is a Promise

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Writing Club, Showtime "Ten Duel Commandments" (hurt/comfort)_

 _Roald Dahl Event, Lavender marriages (write about Lavender Brown)_

 _Word Count: 401_

* * *

Parvati takes a deep breath, nervously pacing the hallway. She wrings her hands together, only forcing herself to fall still when the Healer appears. "You're here for Miss Brown?" he asks.

She swallows dryly, nodding. "Yes."

"I won't lie to you. She's not well."

Parvati sucks in a shaky breath. She's assumed as much. She still remembers her girlfriend laying beneath that monster, still remembers the blood and screaming. "Can I see her? Please?"

The Healer hesitates. After a moment, he steps aside. Parvati assumes it's because St. Mungo's has been flooded with patients in the past few hours, with the war finally over. She offers him a quick mutter of thanks before stepping inside.

"Hi," Lavender says, smiling before wincing.

Parvati feels tears cling to her lashes. Her beautiful, wonderful Lavender is almost unrecognizable beneath the bandages. She doesn't want to see her like this, but she doesn't want to leave her girlfriend's side.

"Hey, love," she says gently, moving to Lavender's side, taking her hand gently and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "How do you feel?"

"Awful."

Parvati almost feels stupid for asking. Lavender has been attacked by a werewolf. No one knows what effect it will have on her in the long run. How could she feel anything else.

"Will you still love me if I'm infected?" Lavender whispers, and the helplessness in her voice is enough to shatter Parvati's heart into a thousand pieces.

"I'll love you forever," she assures her. "It doesn't matter. I'm here, Lavender. I'm not going anywhere."

Her girlfriend's lips quirk into a pained smile. She squeezes Parvati's hand tightly, almost like she's trying to keep her there, like she's so afraid that Parvati will run away if their fingers aren't entwined.

"What I transform?" Lavender asks with sniffle.

Parvati leans in, carefully resting her head on her lover's chest. "I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure this out together."

"Promise?"

"With all my heart."

Lavender closes her eyes. Her face seems to relax, as though that reassurance was all she needs. Slowly, she drifts off, her soft snores filling the air.

Parvati watches her, heart aching. She hates that the girl she has loved for so long is hurting and that she can't do anything to take her pain away. But she will do everything within her power to comfort Lavender. Love is a promise of forever, and she will keep it.


	9. After Hours

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Writing Club, Showtime, "Meet Me Inside" (Kingsley Shacklebolt)_

 _Roald Dahl Event, amber ampersands (color: amber)_

 _Word Count: 444_

* * *

The pub is empty when Kingsley enters. Really, he's surprised to see that Rosmerta hasn't already turned in for the night. "Good evening, Rosmerta," he calls, making his way to the bar and taking a seat.

She greets him with a warm smile that melts his heart. Without waiting for him to make his request, she retrieves a bottle from the shelf behind her. "Long day?" she asks.

It's become their special code almost. The size glass she pulls out always depends on his answer; the harder the day, the bigger the glass. "Hectic," he admits honestly, because even after being Minister for Magic for three months, he still finds himself bordering on becoming overwhelmed, "but tolerable."

Rosmerta nods, that brilliant smile still curling her lips. With a wave of her wand, she summons two smaller glasses. Kingsley lifts his brows, leaning on closer and resting his elbows on the bar, curious. Sure enough, Rosmerta opens the bottle and fills both glasses with the sweetly fragrant amber liquid. She pushes one glass towards him and takes the other, clanging it against his in toast.

"Are you sure you should be drinking while you work?" Kingsley teases, sipping his drink, relishing the sweet, smoky taste as it warms his body.

With a roll of her eyes, Rosmerta smirks. "Who's working?" she asks waving her wand. The door clicks as the lock slides into to place. Chairs and stools lift, finding their places atop the tables. "I'm on a date."

Kingsley feels a sudden nervous jolt. He swallows dryly, taking a deeper drink. He's always admired Rosmerta, but he's never considered that she would feel the same. "Are we dating now?" he asks quietly. "I had no idea."

Rosmerta leans in, dangerously close. Kingsley's breath hitches. "I thought you knew," she whispers.

He hesitantly reaches out, fingers brushing through her honey blonde hair. "I had always hoped," he admits.

Rosmerta closes the short distance between them, grazing her lips over his; Kingsley has the feeling she's deliberately holding back, teasing. Cupping her face gently, he presses his lips more firmly to hers, his heart racing at the absolute perfection. He's had girlfriends in his youth and assorted dates as an adult, but none of them have ever made him feel like this. There's a flutter of nerves rippling through his body, and yet he feels at peace, as though his lips were always made to find hers.

She breaks the kiss, cheeks flushed a beautiful, dull pink, a satisfied smile on her lips. "Well, now that we've settled that…"

Kingsley grins, lifting his glass. "To us," he says.

Rosmerta repeats his gesture. "To us," she echoes.


	10. Maturity

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Writing Club, Showtime, "Cabinet Battle #1" (Would you like to join us?")_

 _Roald Dahl Event, Plucky fellas (James Potter)_

 _Word Count: 448_

* * *

"Evans!" James calls with Lily walks into the Three Broomsticks. "Would you like to join us?"

Before she can answer, Remus climbs to his feet. "Join _him_ ," he corrects, to James' surprise. "Sirius, Peter, and I have a thing…"

"A thing?" Peter asks, just as confused as James feels.

Sirius elbows their friend sharply, clearing his throat. His eyes narrow, and James picks up on what they're trying to do. "Yes, Pete. A thing," he hisses. "Remember?"

It takes Peter a moment longer than it probably should. His eyes widen, and he nods. "Right! That thing! Wow, I can't believe I forgot that thing!" he says with a little too much enthusiasm as he and Sirius join Remus.

"Not very subtle, are they?" Lily laughs, sitting down across from James.

James chuckles, shaking his head. For a moment, he completely forgets how to talk.

He's spent so many years flirting with her to no avail. His blatant advances have always failed him, and now that she's willingly in his company, he doesn't have a clue how to proceed. With nothing else to do, he turns and asks Rosmerta for a butterbeer for Lily.

Thankfully, she breaks the silence. "You've changed," Lily notes. "I'd even say you've grown up a little bit."

James smiles at that. Maybe he has. He's always had such a big head, and it had only made Lily despise him. "Maybe a little," he agrees.

Rosmerta brings the butterbeer, and James pays her. He watches as Lily sips her drink, the butterbeer leaving a bit of foam over her top lip. "Nice mustache," he teases.

The most beautiful shade of pink creeps into her cheeks as she grabs a napkin and quickly wipes the foam away. Just looking at her makes his insides turn to jelly.

In the early days of his pursuit, he hadn't wanted Lily out of love. He'd convinced himself that his intentions were pure, but it had been nothing but lust. He had viewed her as some prize to be won.

Now, he realizes that he has, in fact, grown up. She is a human being, a beautiful woman. He had been a fool to chase her so aggressively, and he vows to himself that he will spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to her somehow.

"Do you want to go to Honeydukes?" he asks as she drains the last of her butterbeer.

"Are you asking me on a date?"

"Been doing that for years, actually. Thanks for noticing," he snorts.

Lily reaches out, taking his hand gently in hers. "Then I hope you'll think I was worth waiting for."

James grins because he already does.


	11. A Mistake Worth Making

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Writing Club, Showtime, "The Room Where It Happens" (Ministry)_

 _Word Count: 469_

* * *

"Milly?"

Amelia glares at the paperwork before her. Only person calls her that. Only one person feels as though he has a right to refer to her in such a casual manner.

"Dawlish," she says curtly, grudgingly lifting her gaze to look at the Auror. "I thought you were on an assignment."

He shrugs, offering her a crooked grin. Amelia hates it when he does it. Merlin! He is attractive, but she can't let herself feel that way about him. She is head of this department. The scandal it would cause…

"It was quick job," he assures her. "Shacklebolt is finishing up the paperwork on it."

Amelia nods, fingers tapping impatiently against her own paperwork. She has too many things to finish and send to Cornelius. "Did you want something, Dawlish?" she asks, careful to keep her tone as neutral as possible.

He's been pursuing her for years. Once, long ago, she had almost said yes; her promotion prevented that endeavor in the end. She's spent all this time wondering what could have happened, wondering how different things could be now.

She shakes her head. This isn't the time to dwell on something she cannot change. The past is the past, and she doesn't need to look at him and reminisce.

"You already know what I want, Milly."

Her breath hitches, the faintest sign of weakness. She grips the edge of the desk, drawing a deep breath in hopes of steadying her nerves. "John-"

"Amelia…"

Her eyes meet his, and she feels something inside her begin to stir. Amelia, not Milly. She almost smiles. "I've told you before, we can't," she reminds him.

"And I told you that I don't give a damn about this place," he says, gesturing wildly at the hustle and bustle of the Ministry beyond her office door. "I would give it up for you in a heartbeat."

She swallows dryly. John Dawlish might be the biggest pain in the ass, but he is _hers._ Over the years, Amelia has gotten so used to having him around at the Ministry. The thought of walking through her department and not seeing his cheeky grin and dark eyes, not hearing that teasing, tender _Milly_ as she passes… It's hard.

"I would never ask you to do that," she says, shaking her head. "You're a damn good Auror."

John sighs. It's the first time Amelia can remember seeing him look so defeated. "I just want a chance," he says quietly.

She knows she should tell him no. She is his boss. The scandal it would cause. But still, the thought of losing him. "One date," she says at last. "Dinner and drinks tonight, my place."

His face brightens at that, and Amelia feels her heart flutter. Maybe she's making a mistake, but she knows it's worth the risk.


	12. Miracles

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Battle of the Black Lake (FrankAlice, "This is a surprise.")_

 _Word Count: 455_

* * *

Emotions flood through Alice's body when she receives the news. She's always wanted to be a mother, to start a family of her own, and excitement tickles her stomach. However, the grin that tugs at her lips quickly fades as something darker sets in. Her chest aches, and tears cling to her lashes. They're in the middle of war. As much as she wants a baby, a voice in the back of her mind whispers that this is not the world she wants to bring a child into.

"You're sure?" she asks the Healer.

The older woman beams. "The test doesn't lie, dear," she says brightly. "There's a little one growing in there. Your body is adjusting, and that's why you fainted."

"Alice? Where is my wife?" she hears Frank call.

The Healer offers Alice's hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll send him in," she says softly. "You two have quite a bit to talk about, dear."

She disappears through the door. Alice wishes she could have a moment to gather her thoughts, but Frank enters only seconds later. He rushes forward, wrapping his arms around. "Moody said you fainted," he whispers. "Are you okay?" He pulls back slightly, examining her, worry evident in his kind eyes.

"I'm…" She can't bring herself to say the word _fine._ Her mind continues to swirl; emotions battle within her head for dominance. "Frank, I'm pregnant."

She waits for the fallout. Surely her husband feels the same conflicting things that she does. He'll say it's too soon, that this is not the right time.

Instead, a small smile plays at his lips. His hand moves to her stomach, resting there for several moments. "This is a surprise," he says quietly. His voice sounds strange, dreamy, almost as if he's far away. "A wonderful surprise."

Relief rushes over her. Alice exhales softly. The conflicts bouncing around inside her mind eases at her words. "Are you sure?" she asks, still unable to allow herself to fully relax.

"I know it's not ideal," Frank tells her. "The war is ugly, but don't we deserve something beautiful now? Don't we deserve good news in all of this?"

Alice smiles, a small laugh bubbling from her lips. She pulls her husband closer, and all the fears die at the touch.

Maybe it isn't ideal. Maybe the war will continue, and they will have to attend funerals for those they care about. Maybe they won't make it out alive and will become casualties of war.

And yet, somehow, that doesn't matter. She has a husband who loves her, and soon there will be another Longbottom in the picture. The world is dangerous and grows worse every day, but now they have something to give them hope.


	13. Dance Forever

_For Around the World in 31 Days (Uganda: Ursula Black)_

* * *

Everyone knows that the Blacks are one of the oldest wizarding families. Ursula should be flattered that her father has chosen a Black for suitor. After all, it could be so much worse. She could find herself betrothed to a Crabbe.

And yet Ursula is hesitant. Maybe she's still young enough to believe in better things. Maybe she's still naive enough to hope for true love.

"You will dance with him tonight at the ball," her father tells her.

Ursula draws her lips into a thin line. Arguing is pointless. Her protests would only fall on deaf, apathetic ears.

She forces herself to smile her brightest smile. "Yes, Father."

…

"Miss Flint?"

Ursula turns when she feels a soft tap on her shoulder. She wants to scowl at the unexpected inconvenience, but that's not an option. She's meeting her future husband tonight. She has to be the perfect, meek Pureblood girl she's been raised to be.

With a soft smile, she turns, and her cheeks immediately flood with heat. The boy who stands before her is maybe eighteen, three years older than she is. His dark eyes glimmer in the candlelight as he observes her.

"Ursula," she corrects quietly, tugging her chestnut curls nervously. "Please, call me Ursula."

"Phineas," he says, taking her hand in his and pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles.

Ursula shivers. Phineas Black, her suitor.

She's always imagined suitors as much older men with wrinkled skin and pockets heavy with gold. She never could have imagined that one could be so young, so handsome.

"May I have this dance?" Phineas asks, his thumb grazing her knuckles.

Ursula can only stare. The only small mercy is that her jaw hasn't dropped. After several moments, she manages to nod. "You can have all the dances you'd like," she whispers.

He leads her through the crowd and onto the floor. One hand rests lightly at her waist as he begins to guide her in a waltz. "I believe this means I will be able to dance with you for the rest of my life."

"I'm looking forward to it."

And she's amazed to realize she means it.


	14. Accio Apple

_For the Hogwarts Forum Gobstones Club_

 _Green Stone- autumn_

 _Accuracy- Accio, Power- Windy, Technique- Iola Black_

* * *

Iola glances over her shoulder, relieved to find that no one is behind her. If her family finds out the truth, she will lose them forever.

She shakes her head. She can't think about that now. Bob is waiting for her, and that's all that should matter.

Still, her mind continues to wander. This could be the last time she sees him. They've spent the past two years meeting in the clearing behind his father's farm, stealing every moment they can, and he still doesn't know what she really is. She wishes she had been upfront from the start, but, at the time, she hadn't planned to fall in love. Iola had assumed he would just be a whirlwind romance, a silly fling; after all, Blacks do not fall in love with Muggles.

She cuts through the woods. Fallen autumn leaves crunch noisily beneath her feet, and Iola smiles to herself. She's always loved this time of year. It makes her feel bolder. Maybe that's why she's decided now is the time to come clean.

Bob waits for her in the clearing, as he always does. Iola lingers in treeline, taking a deep breath. The wind tickles her skin and whips her hair wildly around. Her mother would scold her for meeting a suitor looking so disheveled, but her mother would do so much worse if she found out Iola's true love is a Muggle.

Bob turns when Iola takes a noisy step. "I was starting to think you weren't coming!" he calls over the wind.

Iola smiles softly, quickening her pace until there is no distance left between them. "I always come back," she says, standing on her tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his lips.

Her lover brushes his fingertips across her cheek. "I'm glad," he chuckles. "I'm not sure what I would do if I no longer had you by my side."

Iola pulls away guiltily. She turns her gaze to the treeline, watching the flurry of yellows and browns as the wind plucks the leaves from their branches and sends them swirling and dancing in the air. Will Bob still want her by his side when he learns the truth? Will he look at her the same and learn to work things out, or will he run away in fear?

"Will you always love me?" she asks, her voice trembling with doubt.

"Always."

"Even if I'm not what you think I am?"

She sees the confusion swirling in his kind, green eyes, but he still smiles. "I will always love you, Iola. Nothing will change that," he assures her. He takes her by the hand and kisses her knuckles. "What has brought this on?"

"I should have told you sooner, my love. I'm a witch."

Bob chuckles. "Halloween isn't for another fortnight," he tells her, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. "Unless you're referring to your temperament."

Iola doesn't return his smile. She exhales deeply, drawing her wand. Her heart races. The Statute of Secrecy says she cannot do this. But if she marries him, he'll figure it out one way or another.

"Did you carve that yourself?" he asks, letting out an impressed whistle.

She ignores him, pointing her wand towards his father's farm, in the general direction of the apple trees beyond the barn. Apple picking has always been their favorite autumn activity. " _Accio apple!"_

Bob clears his throat. "That's…. Um… What are you do-?"

His sentence is cut off as the apple whirls through the air, inches from his head. Iola catches it easily with her Chaser skill. She takes a bite, but her stomach feels sour. What she's done could scare him away forever.

Forcing herself to swallow the bite of apple, she chances a glance at Bob. His eyes are wide, but she's relieved to see that there is no fear. "It's not that windy," he says. "And it would be a hell of a coincidence if the wind knocked it this far."

"It's a spell. I'm a witch," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you still love me?"

Bob wraps his arms around her. The apple drops from her hand, thumping against the dirt at their feet. He strokes her dark hair and presses a kiss to her forehead. "I still love you."


	15. A New Legacy

_Written for the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Gobstones- Bronze Stone- memories (Accuracy: "Did you find anything?" Power: library Technique: chestnut brown)_

 _Around the World in 31 Days (New Zealand: Nicolas Flamel)_

* * *

 _Nicolas glances up when he hears the soft thud against the table. He recognizes Perenelle Beauchamp from a few classes, and he's always thought she was lovely, but he's never done more than just steal glances. He can't imagine why she's chosen to sit at this table when there are plenty of empty ones in the library._

" _Did you find anything?" She leans forward, her chestnut brown ringlets falling in her face._

" _Pardon?"_

 _She taps his book with her finger. "You're always in here, looking at alchemy books," she clarifies. "You look like a man on a mission."_

 _He feels heat creep into his cheeks. His eyes quickly flicker to the pages. How can he explain his dreams to her? She is clever, but will she understand his ambition? "Not yet," he says. "Maybe one day."_

 _Her lips quirk into a soft smile. "Best of luck, then."_

"Nicolas?"

He glances up from his parchment, smiling softly at his wife. The centuries have caught up to her. Her curls have faded to dark grey. Her silky skin is lined and wrinkled. But she is still glorious in his eyes. "Yes, my love?"

"Come to bed," she says, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I'm trying to get our affairs in order."

She presses a soft kiss to his cheek. Even now, after centuries of marriage, her touch sends shivers down her spine. "You look like a man on a mission," she teases, taking him back to that first day.

He turns his head so that their lips meet. "A much different mission than the old days," he chuckles.

Her slender fingers brush through his brittle white hair. "I'll be waiting for you," she assures him.

 _Perenelle continues to find him in the library. "What do you hope to accomplish?" she asks one day, chewing on the tip of her quill, her kind eyes studying him curiously._

 _It's been two months meeting like this, talking in whispers, forgetting the books placed before them. Perenelle has always watched him with those inquisitive bottle green eyes, and he feels like maybe she truly cares about what he wants out of life._

" _I want to be the greatest alchemist this world has ever seen," he admits._

 _He expects her to laugh. After all, alchemy has fallen out of fashion in the fourteenth century. It's little more than a hobby to most. Instead, Perenelle leans in, her lips pressing to his cheek in the smallest of kisses. "You will. You are destined for great things, Nicolas."_

Nicolas watches the flames dance in the fireplace, a small smile on his lips. As his days draw to an end, the memories of those peaceful centuries seem to grace his mind more and more frequently.

He had been afraid at first. He's lived so many centuries, and most men live fewer and go to their graves with a slew of regrets. He is a lucky one. His precious wife is all he sees when nostalgia comes to visit.

Nicolas returns his attention to the parchment.

" _Perry, my love!" Nicolas rushes from his workshop, holding the stone in his hand. "I've done it! It works!"_

 _She doesn't have to ask for clarification. With a bright grin, she waves her wand, moving the pot of soup from the fireplace and turning to him. "Wonderful news!" she beams, throwing her arms around her husband and holding him tightly. "I always knew you were destined for greatness!"_

 _He presses a kiss to her forehead. He could not have done this without her. While it had been his hands that had crafted the stone, it had been her undying love and support that had kept him going, even when it felt hopeless._

Nicolas tucks the documents away. He is nearly finished, but there is still time. His days may be ticking away quickly, but there is still enough elixir to keep them alive for a while longer. He can concern himself with the odds and ends of death later. His wife is there, waiting for him, and that's all the consumes his mind now.

He snuffs the candles and makes his way into their bedroom, laying beside her. Perenelle rolls onto her side, gentle fingers caressing his withered cheeks. "Do you have any regrets?" she asks. "My mind turns back to this so often now that we are nearing the end."

"Only that we could not have forever," he answers simply.

Her head rests against his shoulder, and he feels her lips quirk into a smile against his shirt. "It is enough," she whispers. "Every moment with you is a gift."

Nicolas closes his eyes. When he's gone, he will be remembered as the greatest alchemist, but that no longer matters. He prays that they will remember him as the man who loved his wife more than the world.


	16. Not a Mistake

_Writing Club-_

 _Showtime, "Can't Get it Up if the Girl's Breathing?" (addiction)_

 _Themed List (pumpkin)_

 _Love in Motion- (OliverMarcus)_

 _Around the World in 31 Days- Morocco ("Mistake? You really think you're a mistake?")_

* * *

Oliver feels awkward and out of place as he walks among the pumpkin patch near Hagrid's hut. His secret meetings have always been tucked away beneath the stands of the Quidditch pitch or hiding away in the locker rooms. Now, out in the open where someone could pass by and see them, he feels horribly exposed.

"Thought you weren't coming." Marcus startles Oliver by stepping into his line of sight. The Gryffindor wonders how he hadn't noticed him sooner.

"Bit open, isn't it?" Oliver asks, gesturing around at the grounds.

Marcus shrugs but doesn't answer. If he's honest, Oliver is grateful for the silence. They're dancing around dangerous territory, and the wrong word can cause an explosion. After all, Marcus is the one who is so afraid their secret will come out one day; he's mocked Oliver for suggesting that maybe they could go on proper dates and be happy.

The Slytherin taps his fingers against the orange shell of the nearest pumpkin, seeming to lose himself in thought. After several seconds, he breaks the silence. "I wanted to apologize. You made a mistake when you first kissed me."

Oliver's jaw drops. It takes him a moment to collect himself as he takes in the other boy's words. It doesn't fit Marcus at all. He's so used to seeing his lover in all his sneering, arrogant glory. Seeing him so vulnerable is strange, but he moves closer, gripping his boyfriend gently by the wrist. "Mistake? You really think you're a mistake?"

Marcus scowls and jerks away, shoving his hands into his pockets. "What else could I be?"

Oliver rolls his eyes as so many answers flood his mind. _An addiction, a rival, a friend, a lover, my everything._ He cups Marcus' face and leans in, kissing him fiercely, trying to let all his unspoken thoughts reach his boyfriend in that kiss.

When they pull away, Marcus softens, but Oliver can still see the conflict in his dark eyes. "Why would you want this? I'm too scared to even call you mine in public."

"You have your reasons, and the timing isn't right," Oliver answers. "I don't care if I have to wait until we leave Hogwarts, or even after that. I love you, and you are worth waiting for."

Marcus holds him close, chuckling. "The Quidditch change room are empty," he murmurs.

Oliver shivers. "Meet you there."


	17. Achilles

_For the Pairing the Character Competition (week one: Draco Malfoy, DracoBlaise)_

 _Around the World in 31 Days (Brazil: boyfriend)_

 _Hogwarts Writing Club, Showtime, Genetic Emancipation (Draco Malfoy)_

* * *

"You're Achilles," Blaise says, ghosting his fingers along Draco's arm.

His boyfriend raises his brows, an amused smirk on his lips. "Last I checked, my name was Draco. Having an affair already, Blaise?"

Blaise rolls his eyes at the teasing. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Draco shrugs, leaning back on the sofa they share, his slender legs draping over Blaise's lap. "Elaborate, then." Blaise is annoyed to note it's not a request but a command.

"You act so tough and above it all," Blaise explains. "Noble like Achilles. The rest of Slytherin look at you like you're a hero."

Draco's lips pull into a faint, satisfied smile. He adjusts his position so that his calf brushes along Blaise's thigh. Blaise shivers, trying to ignore the thrill of excitement the gentle touch sends through his body.

"But you have a weakness."

He's thrilled to see the way the blond's smile fades. As much as Blaise loves him, Draco is a bit too egotistical. He will never get tired of finding ways to make his boyfriend scowl and sulk.

"I'm not weak," Draco huffs, eyes narrowing. A dark pink stains his pale cheeks.

"I didn't say you were. I said you had a weakness."

"And what's that?" The challenge is clear in his voice.

Blaise leans in dangerously close. Draco squirms, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows dryly. Blaise loves him like this. Draco may be a Malfoy. He may act like he's high and mighty and always in control. But Blaise knows exactly how to get under his skin and make him vulnerable.

"What's my weakness?" Draco asks again, his tone softer now, almost a whine.

"Me," Blaise answers at last, capturing his boyfriend's lips in a kiss.

He loves the way Draco melts. Most of all, he loves that he's the only one who can make him melt.


	18. Cupcake Blunders

_Gobstones_

 _Black Stone- anniversary_

 _Accuracy: CharlieDraco, Power: ivory, Technique: frustrated_

 _Around the World in 31 Days (Cabo Verde: Charlie Weasley)_

* * *

Charlie watches helplessly as the ivory icing begins to melt, leaving a sugary trail down the cupcake liner. He lets out a frustrated groan, kicking the oven out of spite. He should have known better than to apply the icing before the cupcakes could cool. Charlie has watched his mother bake countless cakes. How could he be so careless?

Under ordinary circumstances, ruining cupcakes wouldn't be the end of the world. Now, however, something so simple feels like a crisis. After swearing loudly and fluently, he draws his wand, quickly casting a cooling charm, hoping to salvage them before the icing melts too much and makes them soggy.

Still, he supposes it could be worse. One glance at the bin proves that he's lucky to have this batch. A dozen cupcakes are burned to a crisp. Another dozen had refused to rise and are hideous, flat things.

Charlie turns his attention back to the array of surviving cupcakes. He's almost tempted to try for one last perfect batch. Almost. After his continuous annoyance over his lack of baking skills, he isn't sure his kitchen can take much more of his frustration.

Deciding the cupcakes are as good as they're going to get, he tosses a few colorful sprinkles on the frosting. They don't fall off, so he's pleased that at least he didn't freeze the frosting while chilling it.

There's a knock at the door. "Come in!" Charlie calls, and a moment later Draco has made his way to the kitchen.

"Why does it smell like you've been given burnt offering to the gods?" the blond teases. "I thought you could cook."

Charlie scowls. He _can_ cook. It's something he's always prided himself on. "There's a difference between cooking and baking," he grumbles. "The latter is a more precise art."

Draco snorts and snatches a cupcake without asking. "What's the special occasion?" he asks, nibbling it. A smear of ivory lines his lips.

"Happy anniversary!"

Draco looks at him like he's lost his mind. He rolls his eyes, taking another bite. "We've only been dating a week," he says before swallowing. "You aren't one of those crazy people that has to celebrate every insignificant thing, are?" He shudders, and Charlie hears him mutter something about Pansy under his breath.

Charlie snorts, grabbing his own cupcake. In retrospect, he should have been more specific. "No. You've been at the dragon reserve for a year today," he explains.

Draco purses his lips, eyes widening. Charlie guesses he hadn't paid attention to that particular milestone. "Huh. A year…"

The redhead nods. He can still remember that day clearly. He'd been wary of the Slytherin; after all, Malfoys and Weasleys have never gotten on well. Over time, Draco had become kinder. The dragons had seemed to bring out the best in him.

"A year," he repeats, and a small smile plays at his lips.

Charlie pulls him closer, kissing him gently. "A year," he agrees. "I can't even remember what I ever did without you."

"Well, I'm here to stay, so I hope you'll never have to remember."


	19. The Perfect Spot

_For Hogwarts, Assignment 6_

 _Gardening, summer task: Write about someone enjoying the hot weather by means of a garden party, barbecue, or similar._

* * *

Sweat beads her forehead. With a heavy sigh, a Molly wipes it away before fanning herself. Agreeing to a summertime adventure while pregnant might be the death of her.

She's about to suggest they turn around and go back to the Burrow (preferably through Apparition) when Arthur stops suddenly. "This is the spot!" he decides, looking around.

Molly almost points out that it's just like every spot, but she stops herself when she sees the excitement in his bright eyes. "It's a lovely spot," she agrees, pulling her thick red hair off her neck in hopes of letting a gentle summer breeze caress her damp skin.

Arthur quickly lays out the blanket, smoothing out the red and white checkered material and checking for any stray rocks. "Have seat, love," he instructs; Molly does.

She smiles to herself as she watches as Arthur busies himself with the basket. It really is a lovely spot in the shade, away from the blistering warmth of the sun. Little rays filter through the tree branches and illuminate her husband's red hair, making it look like embers are dancing over his head.

"Just think," he says, pulling out a platter of sandwiches and setting the before her, "our next picnic will be as a family."

Molly feels something in her stomach. She doesn't know if it's a sudden eruption of giddy butterflies or a flutter of gas, but she doesn't care. _A family._ Hearing Arthur say those beautiful words makes her giggle like a silly schoolgirl. "I hope our sweet child will enjoy it as much as I do," she says as Arthur retrieves apple slices and bottles of water.

She can see it so perfectly in her head. One day, she Arthur will visit this little spot beyond the Burrow. She'll lounge in the shade and watch as their children laugh and play, their tiny feet padding over the cool grass.

"To us," Arthur says softly, thumping his water bottle against hers in a toast.

"To a long, happy future with our family," she agrees, her hand resting on her pregnant belly, a smile tugging at her lips.

And as she rests her head on her husband's shoulder and nibbles an apple slice, Molly can't help but think how tolerable the hot weather is quite pleasant with Arthur by her side.


	20. Privacy

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Gobstones- Gold Stone (secrets)_

 _Accuracy- Forest green, Power- "Can You Feel the Love Tonight", Technique- Shrieking Shack_

* * *

" _It's enough for this restless warrior just to be with you."_

 _-Elton John, "Can You Feel the Love Tonight"_

* * *

"The Shrieking Shack," Alice chuckles softly, pulling back the hood of her forest green cloak, a faint smile on her lips. "How romantic."

Lucius steps out of the shadows. Moonlight filters through the window, bathing his pale skin in milky light. He pauses, his cold blue eyes moving slowly over her body. The corners of his lips quirk. "How private," he counters.

Alice shivers. She wraps her arms around her slender body, but she knows the chill has nothing to do with the room's temperature. _Private._ One word is all it takes to remind her of how very wrong their meeting is. It isn't just that they're both married; they are on opposite sides of the war. It's just another secret they'll have to keep.

"Cold?" Lucius asks, smirking as he raises a pale brow. He moves closer, his fingers brushing over Alice's exposed neck and causing her to shiver again. "Body heat is an excellent way to treat a terrible shiver."

The witch scowls, eyes narrowing at him. He knows exactly what effect his touch has on her, and she hates him for exploiting it. "Bastard," she grumbles.

Lucius leans in, his lips dangerously close to hers. "It works best if you're completely naked, though," he asks, ignoring her remark.

Alice pulls away, a small grin on her lips. "Do you ever get bored of teasing?" she challenges.

"Quite often, actually."

Before Alice can speak, Lucius' finger tangle in her short hair. He pulls her closer, crushing his lips against hers. A small moan escaping her lips, Alice works desperately at the buttons on his neat shirt.

…

Alice lays on the bed, her eyes roaming over the strange marks in the wall. It isn't the most romantic spot, and Lucius isn't the safest choice of a lover, but it doesn't matter. Her fingers trail over his chest, a satisfied smile on her lips.

Maybe it's a secret they can never speak. Maybe their hearts will always be entwined. But, for this brief moment, he is hers, and there is no war, no fighting, no hatred. Only love.


	21. More Than Friends

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Love in Motion: AbraxasDruella_

 _Count Your Buttons: Druella Black, "Can you keep a secret?", quill, lower_

* * *

Abraxas sits across from her at the table in the common room. Druella bites her lip, quickly lowering her gaze back to her Astronomy homework. She tries to ignore the flutter of excitement that erupts through her body at his sudden presence, but it's hard. The words in her textbook seem to blur together, and her hand trembles as she tries to write.

"Can you keep a secret?" he asks.

Druella sets her quill aside and returns her gaze to him. Abraxas Malfoy is infinitely more interesting in schoolwork. Her brows raise, a smile playing at her lips.

He leans in dangerously close. She can feel his warm breath tickle her skin at this distance. "Is that a yes or no?"

"Yes." She tries to hold his gaze, but the flutter in her stomach intensifies when she sees those beautiful icy blue eyes. She tries to focus on his lips instead, but the flutter is replaced by the warmth of desire.

She wonders if Abraxas knows the effect he has on her. Probably. He's always so cool, collected, and in control. This is problem some twisted game for him, but Druella is more than happy to play along.

He leans in even closer; Druella bites back a groan. Too close. Much too close. So improper. Somehow, she loves it.

"I'm going to marry you one day," he tells her, the corners of his lips quirking upward.

Druella pulls back, her heart racing. She tries to laugh because it's just a joke; Abraxas is only teasing her. "Very funny." She hates how tight her voice sounds.

Abraxas leans back in his chair. Druella wonders if she only imagines the brief flicker of pain that flashes across his handsome features. She must have, because, in a blink of an eye, he is all arrogance and smooth confidence again. "Funny?" He folds his arms over his chest, icy eyes fixed upon her. "What's so funny about being hopelessly in love with you?"

Druella swallows dryly. It isn't a joke? Her eyes scan his face, searching for a punchline; she only finds sincerity. "You have never shown any interest in me before. It seems a bit sudden that you are now planning our wedding."

Abraxas snorts, amusement clear in his grin. He shakes his head. "I have shown plenty of interest in you," he insists. "It's not my fault you haven't been paying attention."

She frowns. Abraxas has always been there for her. Ever since her first year, they've been damn near inseparable. He's held her hand countless times and whispered sweet things in her ear. He's surprised her with flowers and little notes. She had always assumed he'd done those things out of friendship, though she had wished they had been actions of love.

And now she realizes they had been love.

A smile plays at her lips, and she reaches over, taking his hand. Her fingers brush softly over his knuckles. "Druella Malfoy has a nice ring to it," she says quietly.

"It sounds perfect," he agrees, lifting her hand to his lips and offering it a gentle kiss.


	22. Deserving

_For TGS, One Year Anniversary Event (Theodore Nott)_

 _Beauxbatons, Barbegazi_

* * *

Theo watches the way Draco dances with Pansy, and it makes his blood boil. Draco doesn't care about her, and he's only asked her to the Yule Ball because it's expected of him. It shows in the bored expression on his pale face, the way he seems to keep his distance even during a slow, intimate song.

Pansy deserves better. She should have a partner who treats her like she's as beautiful as sunshine and as lovely as the first blossoms of spring. It isn't fair that she looks at Draco with so much adoration in her eyes, and he returns it with only cold apathy.

They break apart, and Theo sees his chance. Draco disappears into the crowd, and Theo rushes forward, a broad smile on his lips. "You look beautiful," he says.

Pansy glances up at him, a rosy blush creeping into her cheeks. She offers him a soft smile. "You really think so?" she asks, smoothing her hands over her dress robes.

His heart seems to wrench in his chest. Of course she would have doubt. Draco wouldn't have told her how lovely she looks. If anything, he might have found something to complain about.

Again, his blood runs hot. Pansy deserves so much more. He wants to call Draco Malfoy every bad name he can think of, but he knows better. The Malfoy family are powerful allies. He has to bite back his anger and force a smile.

"Very beautiful," he assures her, offering her his hand. "Dance with me."

Pansy studies him for a moment. Her eyes flicker to where Draco had been, but he still hasn't returned. Theo wants to point out that it won't matter. Draco will probably be happy to be rid of her.

After a moment, she accepts his hand. "One dance," she agrees.

It's just a small flicker of hope, but it's enough. Feeling as though he's just won the lottery, Theo leads her out onto the floor as the music begins to play. A slow song. His heart seems to skip a beat as he pulls her closer.

"I'm in luck," he murmurs.

"Why?"

He guides her along, smiling at how graceful she is. How could Draco not see how lucky he had been to have her?

Theo shakes his head. "Because I get to dance with you like this," he answers.

"Just one dance," she reminds him.

But one dance turns to two, and they never let go of one another. He feels as though he might melt into her arms.

As their third song plays, Theo catches Draco's gaze. He looks relieved and mouths _thanks, mate._

…

"You're an amazing partner," Pansy says as they walk back to the dormitory together. "I haven't had that much fun in ages."

"Really? You should always have fun. You're so… You deserve only the best things." He wraps an arm around her, his heart fluttering as she nuzzles against him.

That one action makes him feel braver. When they near the dungeons, he stops, gently catching her wrists. He pulls her in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

Pansy pulls away, her eyes wide, a small smile on her lips. "You fancy me," she says.

"Yes."

She bites her lip. He expects her to mention Draco, to tell him that he shouldn't fancy her. Instead, she takes his hand, chuckling softly as she leads him along. "Good," she decides with an air of finality.


	23. Worth the Pain

_Love in Motion: BellatrixAlice_

 _Count Your Buttons: Alice Longbottom, "We can't keep doing this."_

* * *

They sit together atop the Astronomy Tower, legs dangling over the ledge. Bellatrix's eyes are on the night sky; the stars and moon bathe her in a milky light that almost breaks Alice's heart.

Bellatrix Black is dangerous. There's no denying it. Even if she's gentle with Alice, the Gryffindor can still see the darkness in her eyes.

But that's the way it goes, isn't it? The deadly things are always the most beautiful.

"You're staring," Bellatrix says, keeping her gaze fixed upon the sky.

Alice feels heat creep into her cheeks, though she doesn't understand why. Bellatrix is her girlfriend, after all. She has to spend her days stealing glances and longing for nighttime, longing to be with her lover. If she wants to stare now, she should be allowed to. She doesn't say this, though. Instead, she casts a glance at the ground below. "I know."

Bellatrix's slender fingers grip her wrist. Alice pulls her gaze back up, her heart fluttering at the touch. "Something is bothering you." Bellatrix studies her as though trying to pinpoint what it could be.

"We can't keep doing this," Alice mumbles.

It isn't what she had wanted to say. She had wanted to deny it, insist that everything is fine. Bellatrix would have seen right through her; she always does.

She expects Bellatrix to be angry. After all, Blacks are practically royalty. Once you're lucky enough to have one, you should hold on. Instead, Bellatrix offers a lazy shrug of her shoulders. "I know."

The end has been coming for a while now. Happy endings don't exist for people like them. Bellatrix is bound by duty; she will go on and marry a man from a good family and keep her bloodline pure and strong. And Alice? Well, she isn't sure what she'll do. Even though she knows some beautiful forever with Bellatrix is impossible, she'd let herself hope, let herself plan for a future with her.

Bellatrix reaches out, her fingers tangling in Alice's short chestnut brown hair. The Slytherin pulls her closer, smiling that alluring smile. "We can do it for a while longer, though," she murmurs before kissing Alice fiercely.

Alice knows she should protest. Delaying the inevitable will only cause her pain in the end. Somehow, though, as Bellatrix kisses her, she finds herself thinking that the pain will be worth it.


	24. A Long Year

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Count Your Buttons: Seamus Finnigan, "You know you broke my heart.", signal_

 _Around the World in 31 Days: Barbados (Butterbeer)_

* * *

He finds Seamus at the Three Broomsticks, sipping a glass of butterbeer. "Mind if I join you?" Dean doesn't wait for Seamus to answer. He takes the seat across from him, signaling to Aberforth for a drink.

"You know you broke my heart," Seamus says softly. "I could have run away with you, but you just left. I spent months…"

He trails off as the barman brings the second butterbeer. Dean sighs as Aberforth disappears into the crowd again.

When he'd returned, Seamus had hugged him. Dean had been foolish enough to believe that it would have been enough, that they could go back to normal. He should have known there would be hurt feelings left unresolved.

"I thought you'd be safe at Hogwarts," Dean says softly.

Seamus snorts. "Right. The Carrows certainly made me feel right at home."

"It wasn't exactly a picnic for me," Dean snaps. "I had a mate _die._ He died while trying to protect me."

Seamus softens at that. Dean takes a deep breath. He's forced thoughts of Ted from his mind; he hasn't even had a chance to properly mourn the heroic man. Now, however, he feels a sob tearing apart his chest.

Seamus reaches out, taking Dean by the hand. Dean offers him a shaky smile, trying to calm his nerves again. He's happy to realize his boyfriend's touch still manages to silence his demons.

"It's been a hard year for both of us," Seamus says.

"Can we go back to being okay and hopelessly in love?" the other wizard whispers. "Please?"

Seamus leans forward, grazing his lips gently over Dean's in the smallest of kisses. "We already are," he assures him. "We'll heal from this, Dean. We always do."

Dean's smile feels more solid as he sips the warm butterbeer. Though months have passed between them, he and Seamus fall back into a familiar routine. They tell their own stories- Seamus, and his time spent rebelling against the Carrows and Dean with his time on the run.

It has been a hard year, but he's finally home, and nothing else matters.


	25. Test Subject

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Count Your Buttons (tested)_

 _Love in Motion (FredAngelina)_

* * *

"Hey, Angelina?"

She rolls her eyes before he can say anything more. The excited smile on his lips tells her exactly where this conversation will go. Fred has already tested a few dozen pickup lines on her. While it's strange, she has to admit that she finds it sort of cute. "Yes, Fred?"

"Did you just cast _Expelliarmus?_ "

Angelina frowns at that. It's definitely not what she had expected, and she wonders if Fred is just being silly now. Her wand has been tucked away in her pocket since she'd entered the common room. "What? No."

"Ah." He shrugs his shoulders. "I guess your smile is just naturally disarming."

A soft laugh bubbles from her throat, and her lips tug into an even wider smile. "That's actually pretty good," she decides.

She doesn't know where he's picked up some of these lines or why he's decided she'd be the perfect test subject, but she's come to enjoy them. They brighten her day and make her feel more confident. "So, when are you going to use them on the lucky lady?"

His brows raise, eyes narrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're testing them out on me to see if they work, right?"

Even as the question escapes her lips, she knows the answer. Her cheeks burning, she curses herself for not realizing sooner. When has Fred ever shown interest in anyone. Angelina bites her lip. "Oh."

For a moment, she worries how Fred might react and braces herself for his pain. Instead, he rolls his eyes and folds his arms over his chest. "Honesty, Angelina," he snorts, "I always thought you were so clever. Bit disappointed now, if I'm honest."

"Oi!"

"Well? If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?" he asks, offering her a wink.

Angelina rolls her eyes and closes the distance between them, wrapping her arms around her old friend. "Yes."


	26. Something Real

_For Pairing the Character (OliverDaphne)_

 _Count Your Buttons (broom)_

* * *

Daphne delights in the way Oliver stares at her. Her hard work has clearly paid off. She pauses, smoothing a hand over her emerald grown and offering him a grin with her perfectly painted red lips.

She expects him to tell her how nice she looks. After all, she spent hours picking out the right dress and fixing her hair and makeup to impress this famous Quidditch player. Instead, he raises his brows and says, "Can you fly in that? I can wait for you to change into something more comfortable."

Fly? Daphne purses her lips in confusion. Really, she shouldn't be surprised. She remembers him from Hogwarts; his passion for Quidditch has always been ridiculous. Still, most people don't take their dates out flying.

She offers him a shrug, tossing her dark curls over her shoulder. "I think I can manage."

Oliver offers her his hand, which she accepts. "Then, by all means," he says.

…

Daphne lets out a thrilled squeal as she soars through the air. The wind whips at her hair and destroys the style, but it doesn't matter. There's something about the adrenaline in her veins that makes worrying about her appearance feel silly. Besides, Oliver looks at her like she's the most spectacular thing in the world.

"Never seen anyone fly in an evening gown," he notes as they land on the ground. "I'm impressed."

Daphne beams and kicks off her heels, enjoying the feeling of the cool grass against her bare feet. "You can be stylish and talented at the same time," she laughs.

He watches her for a moment before chuckling. "I wonder if you can handle a Beater's bat like that."

"I've never actually played Quidditch before," she admits.

"Well," he says, closing the distance between them, "I guess that can be our second date."

He says it like it's a natural thing, like he isn't out here with her just because she'd won the date in the Quidditch League's charity auction.

"Second date?"

"If you want to go on one, that is."

Her lips quirk into a soft smile, and she nods. "A second date would be lovely."

As she mounts her broom for another flying session, she can't help but grin. She thinks of her friends who have won dates with other Quidditch players. Undoubtedly, they are out at fancy restaurants or something similar. But, in the end, they won't have anything other than a few good memories.

Daphne has the start of something real with Oliver Wood.


	27. Trolls and Unicorns

_Count Your Buttons: "I almost kissed a troll once."_

 _Love in Motion: LouisScorpius_

* * *

They sit, shoulder to shoulder, their bare feet dipped into the lake. Louis smiles to himself. He's always hated silence, always found it to be such a tense, awkward thing; somehow, though, he doesn't mind it with Scorpius. It feels comfortable, natural.

"Tell me a secret," Louis says, breaking the silence just to hear his boyfriend's gentle voice.

Scorpius leans back slightly, propping up on his elbows. His feet move, splashing the dark water and causing a storm of ripples over the surface. "I almost kissed a troll once."

Louis lifts his brows, turning to stare at his boyfriend. He isn't sure if he's heard him correctly. "A-?"

"Troll."

The repetition doesn't help Louis comprehend the sentence at all. Trolls are hideous creatures. Why would he kiss one? He could understand his cousins James and Fred doing it on a dare, but Scorpius is infinitely more reserved than anyone else in the Potter-Weasley family. He isn't the type to bother with silly pranks and dares.

"How…?" Louis cuts himself off. He isn't sure he wants to know.

Scorpius grins at him, his icy blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well. Not actually a troll," he adds with a small chuckle. "Coral Flint. So, really, she's probably only a quarter troll."

"Scorpius!"

Louis presses a hand to his mouth, scandalized by his boyfriend's words. While he's heard worse, Scorpius has always been so kind. It seems strange that he would say such a thing.

"Kidding. Kidding," he assures Louis quickly. "She's a bit of a nightmare, though. Told everyone I shagged her in the broom closet. I'm still a bit bitter."

Louis shrugs. He supposes it's fair enough. Rumors are nasty things, and it's okay to hold hurt feelings from them. "What about me? Do you tell your friends you snog a troll every day?"

Scorpius snorts and shakes his head. His wraps an army around Louis, pushing a hand through the Gryffindor's strawberry blond curls. "You're more like a unicorn. Beautiful and majestic," he decides.

"Or more like a veela," Louis laughs.

"Or more like a Louis," Scorpius says before capturing his lips in a quick kiss.


	28. Vain Infidelity

_A/N: Prompts at the bottom so I don't give anything away._

* * *

Gilderoy sighs impatiently as he paces the length of Albus' office. He hates that the headmaster has decided to leave him here alone to see to some silly matter with another professor. Gilderoy is an important man, and if Albus Dumbledore doesn't realize how precious his time is….

His displeasure fades as something catches his eye. It's an ornate bronze frame among the many portraits that hang on the wall, and it's gorgeous. What really takes his breath away, though, is what's within the beautiful frame. His heart flutters as he peers into those beautiful eyes; he feels as though he could lose himself in them. And that hair! Such gorgeous blond locks. A modern day Adonis peers back at him, mirroring his smile.

"Well, hello, gorgeous," he says, stepping closer. He adjusts his tie; it would be a shame to look unappealing to someone so beautiful.

He knows he shouldn't do this. It isn't fair to his beloved. He can't help himself, though. His heart wants what it wants. Maybe his beloved companion will understand that desire cannot always be helped. Some impulses will never go away, and Gilderoy has never been one to resist such a pretty face.

"There's a place for you in my bedroom," he says. "You would be a fine addition to my collection."

He clears his throat, blushing deeply. Merlin! He sounds promiscuous. Perhaps it's not the best thing to say. "That is, I like pretty things, and you are the prettiest I have ever seen."

He knows it will have to remain a passing fancy. He cannot bring this beautiful specimen back to his chambers. His beloved would never allow it; it seems cruel, really.

But he can imagine staring at this one all night as he falls asleep with his beloved at his side.

"Ah, Gilderoy!" a voice calls behind him.

"Albus, good," a portrait drawls. "I don't think I could have taken another moment of this imbecile talking to the bloody mirror."

Gilderoy turns, cheeks flushed a dusty pink. He offers the headmaster his most charming smile. "Just admiring the frame."

Nothing suspicious. No reason for his beloved hand mirror to ever know of his indiscretion.

* * *

 _For Love in Motion: GilderoyMirror_

 _Halloween Party Trick or Treating: headmaster's office_


	29. Spilled Wine

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Count Your Buttons: Padma Patil_

 _Love in Motion: SuPadma_

 _Trick or Treat: blouse_

* * *

"I'm so sorry!" Padma says for the fifth time as she returns with a wet rag. "I didn't mean to."

Su just shakes her head and offers her a small smile as she accepts the rag. She careful dabs the violet wine stain that has spread across the stomach are of her white blouse. "You're nervous," she says simply.

Padma feels her cheeks heat with warm color. Nervous is an understatement. She's admired Su for years before she finally worked up the courage to ask her out. Now that she's finally secured a date, she's gone and spilled wine all over the girl.

"I'm-"

"If you apologize again, I might scream," Su teases, poking out her tongue playfully. "It's just a little spill. Mum has a potion that works wonders on stains."

This should reassure Padma, but it doesn't. She can't help but internally scold herself for letting her nerves get the best of her. She's always been like this. So awkward, so shy. She wishes she could be as confident as her sister. Parvati would never have spilled wine on a date. Hell, even if she had, she'd find a way to make it into something funny.

Su wraps her slender fingers around Padma's wrist, drawing the other girl out of her thoughts. "You worry too much," she says. "Relax."

"Easy for you to say."

Su shrugs. "I'm nervous too. Merlin! My stomach has been in knots since you asked me out. It's okay."

Padma studies her. She waits for Su to laugh and tell her that she's only joking, that she's as calm and collected as she appears. But there's only sincerity in her date's eyes.

Padma nods, though she's still on edge. "I, uh… Would you like some more wine? I promise I won't make you wear it this time."

With a grin, Su leans in, pressing a quick kiss to Padma's cheek. "That would be perfect."


	30. Forgiveness

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Count Your Buttons: "I Bet My Life"- Imagine Dragons, jewel, RodolphusNarcissa_

* * *

" _I know I took the path you would never want for me."_

* * *

His heart is heavy as he lingers outside Malfoy Manor. An albino peacock struts past him, its long feathers grazing Rodolphus' leg.

He takes a deep breath. Narcissa could have been his. If he hadn't been so blinded by his own ambition, his own ideals, she would have been his.

He still remembers standing in the garden with her. She had cried and begged him not to follow her sister. It had been one thing for her husband to take up the Dark Mark, but having the man she loved do it… Rodolphus had betrayed her in a way that Lucius never could.

It takes several moments for him to collect himself. Taking a deep breath, he walks the stone pathway until he reaches the door. He hesitates, his fist raised, unable to knock. Still, the door opens, and Narcissa stands before him.

"Well, come in," she says dryly. "You've been out there for an hour, looking like a fool."

"And I assume you looked like a fool staring out the window for an hour," Rodolphus counters.

Eyes narrowing, Narcissa turns and stalks off. Rodolphus follows behind, closing the door. He remembers all their stolen moments together in this hallway. Lucius would be too busy with work, and Bellatrix would been preoccupied trying to bed the Dark Lord. In those days, as it is now, it had only been the two of them; it had been nothing but promises mixed with heavy breathing and desperate limbs tangling in a mess of passion.

Rodolphus shakes his head, forcing himself to put the memories away. He quickens his pace until he reaches the parlor where Narcissa sits in a chair. Her posture is rigid, and there is no warmth in her eyes. Rodolphus supposes he deserves that. He had betrayed her. Why should she spare him a moment of tenderness.

"I love you," he says. "I made a mistake."

"A mistake?" she echoes, raising a brow. "You broke my heart."

"I should have listened to you."

"How are you still free?"

Rodolphus swallows dryly. "Through miracles alone," he answers. It's the only thing that makes sense. He has only managed to evade the Aurors with luck. Really, it's only a matter of time before they catch up to him. It doesn't matter; he only needs enough freedom to make things right.

"I never stopped loving you," she admits, fingers grazing over the jewel that rests against her chest. Rodolphus recognizes it; it's the emerald he had given her.

"Will you forgive me? I made a mistake, and I will pay for it when my time comes," he says. "But I don't want to spend the rest of my life in Azkaban knowing you hold any spite for me."

To his surprise, Narcissa climbs to her feet and closes the distance between them in a few quick, graceful strides. She wraps her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Yes."

And the room around them seems to melt. There is only Rodolphus and Narcissa. Maybe it isn't for long. Maybe this will be torn from them before they have a chance to start anew.

It doesn't matter. All that matters is this moment.

* * *

" _Please forgive me for all I've done."_


	31. One Day

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Haunted House: Write about a horrible sensation or feeling_

 _Count Your Buttons: NevilleHannah._

* * *

Hannah wakes with a scream. She bolts upright, her chest tightening painfully. A cold sweat beads her forehead, and her lungs burn as she tries to make them work.

 _It's okay. Just a nightmare. A bad dream._

But even as she tries to silently reassure herself, she knows it isn't quite true. It isn't just a nightmare; it had really happened, and she's forced to relive it every time she closes her eyes.

"Hannah?"

Neville is awake now. He moves closer to her, his arms wrapping around her. Hannah stiffens at the touch, but she doesn't push him away.

"The war?" he asks.

She nods. She knows that she cannot speak, so she doesn't try. Her mouth feels as though she has a dozen cotton balls in it.

Her husband presses a kiss to her forehead before climbing out of bed. "I'll be back."

Hannah offers him another mute nod, tears trickling from her eyes. She hates herself for feeling like this. Though she has always been comfortable showing her emotions, helplessness makes her feel so small.

She doubles over, gasping for breath. Her stomach churns violently, the acid burning her insides. Hannah swallows, shivering pitifully. The nausea is the worst. Cold pinpricks her skin, contrasted horribly with heat inside.

Neville returns after what feels like an eternity. The panic hasn't passed.

"Here. Drink this," he says gently, guiding a mug into her hands.

The blonde sniffs it, a small ghost of a smile quirking her lips. The warm, sweet scent of cocoa is familiar and calming. Trembling, she sips it, letting the hot liquid work it's magic.

"You must think I'm pitiful," she manages, her voice dry and strained.

"I don't." His fingers brush slowly over her arm, and Hannah wants to cry at his kindness. "We're are still living with the aftermath."

Hannah nods but doesn't speak. She takes a deeper gulp of the hot cocoa.

She's had these nightmares for six years. It doesn't matter that the war has long since been won. Every night, like clockwork, the demons find her in her dreams, and she sees friends and family members screaming in pain, sees the dead bodies amidst the rubble. Every night, she wakes in a panic.

But, for the past three years, Neville has been by her side every night. His love isn't enough to take away the nightmares, but it somehow makes everything more tolerable.

"Am I going to be okay?" she whispers when the last of the cocoa has been drained and her mug has been placed on the bedside table.

She leans into her husband, grateful for his warmth and softness. The Gryffindor has always been so good and kind. Hannah doesn't know how she got so lucky.

Neville wraps his arms around. It's the only thing that ever makes her feel like she is safe from the monsters in her mind. "One day," he whispers. "One day, we all will be."


	32. As the Saying Goes

_For Hogwarts_

 _Writing Club_

 _Book Club: Nina Zenik: beautiful, white roses, waffles_

 _Showtime: Prisoner of My Past (Sirius Black)_

 _Love in Motion: SiriusUmbridge_

* * *

Sirius never understood the saying _love is blind_ until she came into his life.

She isn't beautiful, except, perhaps, to those who find toads attractive. She isn't kind either, or funny. Really, she has no qualities Sirius has always sought out in a partner.

But there's another saying he's heard, and maybe it explains why he keeps finding himself in Dolores Umbridge's home again and again. _The fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach._

He opens the door to her home without knocking. The warm, sweet scent of waffles greets him, and his stomach growls in response. "Someone has been busy!" he calls cheerfully, shutting the door behind him and following the mouthwatering smell into the kitchen.

Dolores looks up, her wide mouth stretching into a grin. "I know how you love waffles," she says in an overly sweet voice as she drops another waffle on top of a pile of others on the plate. "Almost as much as you love me."

Sirius doesn't bother to correct her. Does he love her? Perhaps. Does he love anything more than waffles? No way in hell.

He'll never tell her that, of course. If Sirius doesn't exaggerate his emotions for her, he may never have waffles as fluffy and scrumptious as hers again. "Of course," he assures her, pulling a small bouquet of white roses from behind his back. "That's why I got these for you."

Dolores rests her hand over her heart, letting out a content sigh. "For that," she says, waving her wand and summoning a vase for him to put the flowers in, "you get an extra sweet treat this morning."

With a nod, he takes his place at the table, picking up the hot pink knife and fork. A moment later, Dolores places the waffles in front of him, and Sirius is almost tempted to ask her to marry him right then and there. These aren't ordinary waffles. Whipped cream fills the squares in place of syrup. Better still, she's drizzled chocolate syrup over them, making everything damn near perfect.

"I love you."

Though he's talking to the waffles, Dolores gives a little giggle. Sirius shrugs; let her think it's about her. The happier she is, the better the waffles will be.


	33. Photograph

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Showtime, "Finale" (forever)_

 _Count Your Buttons: dust_

 _Love in Motion: ColinDemelza_

* * *

Demelza's hands tremble as she pulls the photo album from the shelf. She wipes away the dust and sighs. It's hard to believe that she's left it untouched for so long, but the pain is still too much.

Taking a deep breath, she opens it, trying to ignore the sudden pressure in her chest when she sees that familiar smile. He's eternally fifteen, trapped forever in that moment. Though tears trickle from the corners of her eyes, a small smile tugs at her lips.

Colin had loved his camera. He'd spent so much time behind the lens that it had taken Demelza ages to convince him to let her be the photographer for once.

" _Why would you want a picture of me?" he laughs, ruffling his hair. A shy smiles plays at his lips. "I'm not special."_

 _Demelza rolls her eyes, reaching for his camera. "Hand it over. I'm asking nicely."_

 _He pokes out his tongue, stepping gracefully out of her reach. "'Hand it over.' doesn't sound very nice." There's a teasing hint to his voice._

 _With a laugh, she closes the distance between them, catching the camera's strap. "Compared to some of the other choice phrases I could use, it's quite polite," she points out, grateful he doesn't put up a fight as she pulls the camera from his grip._

Demelza traces her fingers lightly over the photograph. It's been two years since that day, and a year since his death. Her heart breaks as she realizes it's the only photograph she has of him; she'll never be able to tease him and steal his camera again.

" _Smile!"_

 _His lips quirk. It isn't a broad smile, but it fits him. It's the same small, awkward smile he's always greeted her with._

 _Demelza presses the button, capturing the moment with a quick flash of light._

She wonders if there are many pictures of Colin out there. There must be; surely his family has some. Still, it seems strange to think about. Colin had spent years hiding his face behind the camera, capturing so many beautiful moments.

Tears fall, splattering across the background. Demelza quickly wipes the droplets away, scolding herself. Colin wouldn't want her to cry.

" _Let me have that when you develop it," she says, handing him the camera back._

" _Why would you want a picture of me?"_

 _She laughs and shakes her head. As a photographer, he sees so much, but it seems he can't see the obvious. "Oh, Colin," she says, wrapping her arms around his lithe frame, a smirk on her lips as she leans in dangerously close. "What am I going to do with you?"_

She presses a kiss to the photograph. She will never be able to kiss him again or sit with him by the Black Lake and tell him her hopes and dreams. Once, there had been a chance of a future together, but it's been taken away.

As she closes the album, she her smile feels stronger. At least she had a chance to experience true love. Maybe she will never feel that wonderful high again, but she'd had once, and that will carry her through.


	34. Always the Same

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Showtime, "Not So Bad" (Death Eaters)_

 _Days of the Month, International Men Day (Write an all-male fic)_

 _Count Your Buttons: "Please Don't Leave Me"- Pink, leather jacket_

 _Love in Motion: LuciusRodolphus_

* * *

" _I'm always saying how I don't need you."_

It's the same story every time they meet. A moment of passion, the feeling of everything being so right. Rodolphus loves these moments with Lucius. At least, he loves the way they begin.

His fingers ghost through Lucius' blond hair, a smile on his lips. He doesn't care how wrong this is. They both have wives and obligations, but, here and now, they can let their masks fall away.

"I love you." His voice is barely a whisper, almost as though he's afraid Lucius will hear him. Hell, maybe he is. This is complicated enough as it is; putting a name to the things they feel will only put a strain on what they have.

But he has to say it. Keeping it inside hurts far too much.

He feels Lucius grow rigid beside him. "It isn't right," Lucius says.

And that's when things always take a turn for the worse. The atmosphere between them changes, and Rodolphus can practically taste the sudden tension in the air.

"I have a wife."

"So do I," Rodolphus reminds him.

But it's too late. Everything is out in the open again, and he has no choice but to let it play out.

"Leave." Lucius is on his feet now. He folds his arms over his chest, and his hard gaze leaves no room for argument.

Rodolphus climbs out of bed, his heart heavy. He doesn't want to leave, but that's the way it always happens. "Fine," he says, snatching his leather jacket from where it's been thrown carelessly to the floor in the heat of their passion. "I don't need you."

The words hurt him to say, but he doesn't regret them. Rodolphus knows how this will end. It's always the same.

Even as he stalks out into the night, he knows they will be together before the week is out. Their love story may never have a happy ending, but it always reads the same. In the end, they will always find their way back to one another.

" _But it's always gonna come right back to this."_


	35. Practice Versus Theory

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Showtime, "Doing This" (first kiss)_

 _Love in Motion: FabianBenjy_

* * *

Benjy bites the inside of his cheek. Part of him wishes that he had been Sorted into Gryffindor; he definitely needs the bravery of a lion now.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Fabian looks around before turning his attention back to the Ravenclaw. "And why did it have to be an empty classroom?"

Benjy swallows dryly. He already feels stupid. Asking Fabian to meet him in private had seemed like a good idea at the time, but he hadn't bothered to figure out a cover story. It's almost funny; for once, his Ravenclaw cleverness has failed him.

"I… Um…"

His body trembles as he takes a deep breath. It shouldn't be this hard, right? In theory, it's just a simple action. It's just a quick touch of the lips and the reaction that follows. In practice… Well, he isn't sure. He's never actually kissed anyone before.

Fabian steps closer, the movement drawing Benjy out of his thoughts. The Gryffindor studies him, concern clear in his topaz eyes. "Is something wrong?" he asks, reaching out for him.

 _Now or never,_ Benjy thinks.

Before he can lose his nerve, Benjy takes a step, closing the distance between them in one quick stride. All the advice from books and magazine articles flood his mind. At the time, it had all made sense, and he'd been able to convince himself it would be easy. Now, however, the words blur as they whirl around his school. All his time spent on theory has become strings of useless nonsense.

By some miracle, his lips find Fabian's. It isn't as graceful or wonderful as the kisses he's read about. It's an awkward brush of the lips before his blood turns to ice; he pulls away, his cheeks red as a cherry.

"I'm sorry," Benjy mumbles.

To his surprise, when he looks at Fabian, the other boy is grinning. "If you wanted to kiss me, you could have just asked," he chuckles.

"Can I… Can I kiss you again?"

Fabian leans in, their lips meeting. Benjy almost laughs. Nothing he's read has ever mentioned how the second kiss is better than the first.


	36. News

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Love in Motion: LysanderMolly_

 _Cliché Day: teen pregnancy_

 _Count Your Buttons: "Can we talk? In private?"_

* * *

Molly bites the inside of her cheek until she can taste the faint tang of blood. She can do this. She _has_ to do this.

Her stomach feels like it's been twisted into knots as she approaches Lysander. It's just Ly; it's just her best friend, her boyfriend.

"Hey, Lorcan," she says, nodding to his brother. "Lysander, can we talk? In private?"

The twins exchange a glance. After a moment, Lysander nods and climbs to his feet, his dark curls bouncing from the impact. "What's up?"

"In private," she repeats, offering Lorcan an apologetic smile.

Lysander wraps an arm around her, and they begin to stroll. Molly is grateful for the brief delay; though she's practiced what she'll say multiple times, she is still terrified. At least she has a few more moments with Lysander's gentle touch. It doesn't calm her mind, but it still makes her feel a bit better.

"You're tense," he notes.

Molly tries to offer him a smile, praying it doesn't look as forced as it feels. "Tense? What makes you say that?"

Her boyfriend comes to a stop suddenly, and he gently pulls her to face him. His fingers stroke her copper hair, tucking the strands behind her ear. "I know you, Molly," he says. "I've loved you since we were six years old. Do you really think I can't tell when you're upset?"

Molly relaxes at that. _Love._ Of course he loves her. This shouldn't make that love go away.

So why is she so afraid?

"Molly?"

"Nothing will ever change that, right? You'll love me no matter what?"

"No matter what," he echoes, offering her that gentle smile she loves so much.

Molly nods, finally relaxing. She takes his hand, guiding it to her stomach. "We're going to have a baby."

It takes a moment for him to react. For several seconds, he's frozen in place, eyes wide. Then, his lips stretch into a smile, and a soft laugh spills from his lips. "We are?"

"We are."

He pulls her closer, pressing his lips to hers in a deep a kiss. In that moment, all her fears fade away. It doesn't matter that they're only seventeen and still trying to figure life out. She has Lysander and the child growing inside her, and that is enough.


	37. Bedtime

_For Pairing the Character (PercyKingsley)_

 _Writing Club, Count Your Buttons: raw_

* * *

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

Percy glances up at the familiar deep voice. He tries to offer Kingsley a smile, but it feels more like a grimace. With a groan, he sips his coffee. "Can't sleep."

His lover sits across from him, a frown etched on face. His dark eyes focus on the coffee mug. "Caffeine doesn't help," he says gently. "I thought you were taking a break from work."

Percy winces. Kingsley's words aren't cruel, but they remind him of his shortcomings.

He'd been so focused on his own ambition that he'd neglected his family. Though that's in the past now and his family has forgiven him, the wounds are still raw and stinging. Their love cannot erase his sins.

It's his fault that Fred is dead. His fallen brother still haunts his dreams, and he cannot allow himself to close his eyes. Fred is always there, laughing and smiling, and Percy is afraid he'll go mad from the constant reminder.

"It's not work," he says at last. "I can't stand the dreams."

Kingsley reaches across the table, taking Percy gently by the hand. It amazes him how that familiar touch manages to calm his nerves and silence his demons. "We're all haunted," he says quietly. "You have to sleep, Percy."

"The nightmares—"

"Can't hurt you," his lover interrupts, his thumb brushing gently over Percy's knuckles. "Besides, I'm by your side. I'll be there when the bad dreams come."

Percy turns his gaze to his mug, swallowing dryly. He can't remember the last time he's allowed himself to sleep since the war finally ended. Mostly, he's just pushed himself to stay awake until his body and mind finally crash. The thought of the nightmares terrify, but Kingsley's hand is so warm and secure. It would be so easy to give in, to let himself melt into that familiar touch. Kingsley will chase the nightmares away, and, if he can't, he will be there to hold Percy until he feels okay again.

Percy pushes the mug away, nodding. "Can we… Can we go to bed?" he asks.

Kingsley climbs to his feet and helps Percy up, wrapping him into a warm hug. "Come on," he says softly. "Bedtime."

And Percy has been so afraid to sleep for so long. The thought still scares the hell out of him, but he smiles. Kingsley will be beside him; everything will be okay.


	38. Still Partners

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Showtime, "Spy Again" (regret)_

 _World Orphan Day (Write about someone with no family)_

 _Count Your Buttons (welcome mat)_

* * *

Piers lingers in front of the door, eyes fixed upon the dusty welcome mat. Maybe coming here is a mistake. He shouldn't burden Dudley with his problems. It's too cruel.

Still, the moment his father threw him out and screamed every possible slur at him, all Piers could think of was Dudley. He's been Piers' best friend and partner in crime for years. They have always stood by each other's side.

They've spent years tormenting people, bullying them, just as Piers' father has tormented and bullied him. Regret sours his stomach. Now he knows what it's like to have someone split his lip out of hatred.

He stands there, arm raised. His bruised hand lingers in the air, but he cannot bring himself to knock.

The door opens before he can change his mind. Dudley's blue widen at the sight of him. Without preamble, he ushers Piers inside. Piers tries to protest, but the door shuts behind them, and he doesn't have it in him to turn down this hospitality.

"What happened?" Dudley asks, gathering the necessary supplies to treat Piers' injuries.

Piers stands there awkwardly. He doesn't move at all until Dudley guides him onto a chair. "My dad… My dad disowned me," he says quietly.

"Why?"

He wants to tell Dudley. The truth snakes its way up his throat, sticking to the back of his mouth. Even taking a deep breath fails to steady his nerves. "He found out… He found out I'm gay."

He expects outrage. Dudley has never appreciated anything that's different. Piers can already imagine his friend's knuckles crashing into his face, finishing his father's handiwork.

Instead, Dudley dips a rag in something and presses it gently to Piers' busted lip. "Good."

"Good?"

Piers can't believe what he's hearing. He's been beaten. His family has turned their backs on him. How on earth can Dudley find any of this good?

The blond swallows dryly, his cheeks blushing a soft pink. "I mean, it's good because that means I may have a chance."

At first, Piers doesn't understand. Slowly, a smile tugs at his lips. He hisses as the slight strain causes pain.

"If you want. I mean, I don't want to assume," Dudley says quickly.

Piers nods. "I'd like to."

Maybe he's lost everything else, but at least can keep Dudley in his life.


	39. More to Life

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _National Housewife Day: Write about a housewife_

" _Spies Are Forever": remember_

* * *

Petunia Dursley is up to her elbows in suds and dirty dishwater when she realizes she isn't satisfied.

She remembers being young and dreaming of the day she would be a trophy wife. In her wildest fantasies, she would picture herself happy and with a wealthy husband. Money would never be an issue, and she would be so happy.

She doesn't know what's changed. As she rinses the soap from the final pot, however, she feels it. This is the life she has always wanted, but now her mind yearns for something more.

Being a housewife is nice. She would never dare complain about it. After all, her only conflicts are ever what to watch on television or which neighbor to spy on. It's a comfortable life.

As the years pass, though, she realizes that she wants more. Dudley is away at university, and she doesn't have him to care for. Vernon rarely needs her for anything other than a hot meal and a warm body to lay with at night.

She places the pot to dry, a small frown tugging at her lips. There has to be something more to life than this.

…

"What are you looking at, dearest?" Vernon asks.

Petunia glances up. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn't even heard him come in. Now, she realizes she should have started dinner an hour ago.

"Well?" Her husband moves closer, plucking a pamphlet from the pile of papers before her. "What's this?"

"I thought I might go to nursing school."

She braces herself. Vernon does not like change; he's worked so hard to give her this life, and admitting she wants to try something different almost feels like a betrayal. While her husband has never been violent man, he still has a temper. She doubts he will like this.

Petunia glances up at him. His face hasn't turned red, and she takes that as a good sign.

"What's brought this on?" His voice is surprisingly gentle.

"I… I want to do something with my life," she answers.

Vernon offers his hand; she accepts, allowing him to guide her to her feet. He wraps her in a warm embrace, and she smiles. Maybe he doesn't like change, but he seems to accept this. Then again, he has never been able to deny her anything.

"You're sure about this?"

"Yes."

He places a kiss to her lips before pulling away. "How about takeaway tonight?" he asks. "You relax, and we'll find you a program."

Petunia feels a flutter in her chest. Slowly but surely, she will find her happiness. She's grateful that Vernon will be there along the way.


	40. Sugar

_For Pairing the Character (PetuniaArabella)_

* * *

"I'm out of sugar," Petunia announces. "I'll have to borrow some from Mrs. Figg."

Vernon grunts from behind his newspaper. If he finds it suspicious that this is the third time this week that Petunia has had to visit their neighbor to borrow something, he doesn't voice it. Petunia smiles to herself. Having her husband be completely oblivious makes it all so much easier.

Without another word to Vernon, she slips out the door. Her pace is quick, almost eager as she makes her way to the other woman's house. These little stolen moments are her only sources of excitement these days.

She doesn't even have to knock. Arabella is waiting at the door for her, a knowing smile on her thin lips. "What do you need this time, dear?" she asks sweetly.

"Some sugar, if you don't mind."

The older woman chuckles softly and grips Petunia gently by the wrist, pulling her inside and quickly closing the door. "How fitting," she muses.

And as Arabella kisses her, Petunia melts into that sweet, familiar embrace.


	41. Kitchen Goddess

_For Hogwarts Assignment #9_

 _Home Economics and Domestic Magic: Write about one of the following witches preparing a meal with magic for a romantic interest. (Helga Hufflepuff)_

* * *

Helga looks absolutely glorious as she moves through the kitchen, waving her wand and casting spell after spell that brings the cozy room to life. Her blue eyes brighten with joy as the knives cut the vegetable into perfect cubes and the herbs rub over the chicken.

Rowena, with all her cleverness and skill, has never quite mastered these charms. She's never even entertained the thought of domestic life, and these spells have always seemed so useless. Watching Helga perform them now, though, makes it looking fascinating.

With another flick of her wand, Helga sends the vegetables and chickens to the shallow pot that hangs over the open flames. Within moments, the air smells of garlic, thyme, and sage, and Rowena's stomach growls.

"You are quite good at that," Rowena says.

Helga doesn't look up. Her messy blonde hair falls in her face as she uses a mixing spell to prepare dough for bread. "Is this your way of admitting that domestic magic is necessary?" she teases.

Rowena rolls her eyes, a small scowl tugging at her thin lips. "I never said it wasn't necessary." She moves closer, watching in amazement as her lover casts another spell to make the dough rise faster. "I only said that I do not excel at it."

Helga chuckles. After studying the dough for a moment longer, she glances up at Rowena. Helga's freckled face is streaked with flour, and beads of sweat form a crown across her forehead. Rowena wonders how it's possible for her to still look so beautiful like this. After all, those who delight in physical pursuits over intellectual ones often look so rough and ragged. Helga, however, still looks like a goddess.

"If you tried, I'm sure you would be brilliant," she says, leaning in and capturing Rowena's lips in a quick, chaste kiss.

When Rowena pulls away, her head spins. She doesn't know if the dizziness is from the heat of the flames or the sweet, familiar feel of Helga's lips against her own. Tugging nervously at her dark braid, she steps back and clears her throat, gesturing around the kitchen. "Well?" she asks. "Is there some special occasion I've missed? No. This is much too small to be a celebratory feast."

"Observant as always." A soft laugh bubbles from the blonde's throat. "This is a meal for two."

"Us," Rowena assumes.

"Us," Helga confirms.

Rowena considers for a moment. It isn't her birthday or Helga's. Their anniversary is months away. She wonders if there is some great milestone she has somehow managed to miss, but she cannot think of anything.

"Why are you preparing such a fine meal for us?" Rowena wonders as her lover transfers the dough to the oven. "Has something happened?"

The other woman offers her an amused smile. "Because I love you, Rowena. Is that enough of a reason to prepare a meal for us to share?"

Rowena feels her heart flutter wildly. She places a hand on her chest as though the gentle pressure can somehow tame the excited organ within. "I suppose it is," she answers.

"Perfect. Do you mind going into the village to fetch a bottle of wine for us, then?"

Rowena raises her brows, a small smirk on her lips. "It sounds like quite an intimate dinner," she says.

A dusty pink stains Helga's cheeks. She quickly turns her attention back to the kitchen, busying herself with a flurry of spells to keep everything running smoothly. "Well, I certainly planned for it to be." Her voice is soft and tight, almost as though the mere mention of desire is awkward for her to voice.

Rowena smiles to herself and turns away, hurrying off to retrieve her cloak.

Dinner has never been anything particularly exciting. It's just a meal shared with her dearest friends, a mundane event that holds no significance. Now, however, there's a spring in her step as she hurries down the castle corridors. She's never been so thrilled about a meal in her entire life.


	42. Aura

_For Love in Motion (LunaGabrielle)_

* * *

 _Beautiful._

There are days when Gabrielle hates the word. She is proud of her Veela heritage, but it feels like a burden.

 _Beautiful._

It's all anyone cares to see. Strawberries and cream skin, silvery blonde hair, crystal eyes. She is just another pretty face. It does not matter that she had been one of the top students in her year. Brains are not visible on the outside.

 _Beautiful._

No one cares that she has a big heart or that she loves to write poetry. She is part Veela, and none of that matters.

...

At least, it hadn't mattered until Luna Lovegood came into her life.

"You're beautiful," she says.

Gabrielle tries not to scowl. She's heard it her whole life, and it's starting to get old.

"Your aura, I mean," the older witch adds, as though she can read Gabrielle's mind. "It's quite lovely."

"My aura?"

The other woman nods. "It's calm. Most people's auras are quite intense. They give me headaches."

"Gabrielle Delacour."

"Luna Lovegood. Hello."

…

Luna is like nothing Gabrielle has ever seen before. She believes in impossible things with such a passion that Gabrielle allows her own mind to turn to fantasy. There's a strange magic in everything that Luna does.

…

It's easy to fall in love with Luna Lovegood. They fit together so perfectly.

At three in the morning, they sit together, sharing cups of coffee. Gabrielle writes love poems, and the words come so easily, like she's always been meant to write about the strange goddess before her. Luna paints portraits of Gabrielle, gliding the paintbrush over the canvas like she's working magic into each stroke.

"Why am I yellow?" Gabrielle asks.

"Yellow is happy," Luna answers. "Yellow is how you make me feel."

And, once upon a time, those words would have seemed so silly, but now they make Gabrielle smile.

…

"You're beautiful," Luna tells her as they sit beneath the stars, studying the constellations with tired eyes.

For once, Gabrielle doesn't mind the word. When Luna says it, it isn't a curse or a terrible burden. When Luna calls her beautiful, it feels like home.


	43. Traditions

_For Hogwarts_

 _Decorating the Christmas Tree: frost_

 _Advent Calendar: Day 1, write about a countdown_

 _Jingle Bells: "My Only Wish For (This Year)- Draco Malfoy_

 _Amber's Attic: Major Arcana, Death: Write about someone letting go of the past to give themselves a better future_

 _Count Your Buttons: CharlieDraco_

 _Word Count: 345_

* * *

Draco stands at the window, eyes fixed upon the frost that clings to the glass. Around him, the other workers at the dragon reservation drink and cheer, but he isn't in the mood for festivities. He's only here because the idea of being alone in his room doesn't sound particularly enjoyable.

Part of him misses England. His parents always threw prestigious parties where only the best and most influential families were allowed. But that's also why he's glad he's in Romania now. After the war, he had been forced to come to terms with the fact that his life had been a mess. He'd made terrible choices, and Romania has given him a chance to let go of them and rediscover himself.

"Nearly midnight," Charlie says, coming up next to him and offering him a glass of champagne. "Here's to a new year."

"A better year."

Maybe he wants to be by himself, but he doesn't mind Charlie's company. It's almost funny. He's spent so many years looking at the Weasleys like they're filth, but Charlie Weasley has become his comfort. It's amazing how the aftermath of war can change everything.

"A better year," Charlie echoes in agreement before sipping his champagne and making a face. "This stuff is too sweet."

Draco chuckles. "You'll get used to it. You're adaptable."

"Nope. I prefer a good Scotch, but Zoelie says champagne is traditional."

"Ten! Nine!"

A new year is approaching. Draco listens to the chorus of voices counting down the final seconds.

"Six!"

There's another tradition, one more intimate than champagne. He's followed this tradition before. Why does he want to share it with Charlie now?

"Three! Two! One!"

Around them, he hears the cheers. "Happy New Year!" Confetti falls.

Draco stands on his tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to the other man's lips. Charlie stares at him, eyes wide but a smile on his lips.

"Now, that's a tradition I can get behind," he chuckles. He wraps an arm around Draco, and they watch the snow fall through the frosted glass. "Happy New Year, Draco."


	44. Surprise

_Love in Motion: DeanLavender_

 _Decorating the Christmas Tree: "You didn't have to do this!"_

 _Word Count: 336_

* * *

Lavender hates surprises. She always has. There's something about being forced to face the unknown as the only oblivious one that makes her horribly uncomfortable.

Still, she trusts Dean. His hands pressed gently against her eyes do not cause any panic. "Are we there yet?" she asks, and she knows she sounds like a whiny child, but she can't help it. Everything is so disorienting when she can't see.

"Patience, young grasshopper," her boyfriend teases with a small chuckle.

"Easy for you to say," she grumbles. "You have full use of yours eyes."

"Keep your eyes closed," he says as he drops his hands away.

It's tempting to look. After all, she's had her eyes covered for at least five minutes. Anyone would be curious. Somehow, she manages to do as instructed. Her eyes remain closed tightly. She hears him insert the key into the lock and frowns. All this fuss just to come back to his flat?

"If people jump out and scream, 'Surprise!', you lose all cuddle privileges," she warns.

She's answered only by another soft chuckle. His hand finds hers, and he guides her along. "Eyes closed," he tells her.

Lavender pouts. "They _are_ closed," she says, more sharply than necessary.

He eases her over the threshold and through the hallway before coming to a stop. "Open them."

When she opens her eyes, she lets out a squeal of delight. Their kitchen is set up like a party with its banners and food, but the candles lend it a more intimate atmosphere.

"What's this?" she asks, a broad grin stretching across her face.

"Read the banner. Congratulations on getting the job at the _Prophet_ ," Dean says, kissing her lips gently. "You're going to be a brilliant advice columnist."

"You didn't have to do this! A simple 'Good job.' would have been enough," she says, wiping a happy tear from the corner of her eye.

"You deserve so much more than simple," he tells her, pulling her into his arms. "You deserve the world."


	45. Mistletoe Discovery

_Love in Motion: RolfLuna_

 _Amber's Attic: High Priestess- Write about an unexpected discovery._

 _Decorating the Christmas Tree: splendid_

 _Jingle Bells: "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas"- genre, fluff_

 _Count Your Buttons: classic_

 _Word Count: 493_

* * *

"Mistletoe?" Luna asks, her lips pulling into a frown. "It's infested."

Rolf shakes his head, kissing his wife's cheek. He knows how she feels about mistletoe, of course. He's entertained the notion for the three years that they've been together, but he can't help himself. There's something so classic and timeless about the bit of green hanging in a doorway. "Well, you have your charms to keep the Nargles away, love," he reminds her.

She doesn't look completely convinced, but she doesn't argue. With a small shrug of her shoulders, she starts for the kitchen. "I'm going to make some cocoa," she says. "The smell should cause them to flee."

Rolf stares after her, chuckling. He knows that a lot of people at Hogwarts would laugh at her for her belief in imaginary creatures, but he finds it endearing. The fact that she can see such amazing, impossible things in the most ordinary places makes her even more beautiful in his eyes.

He removes his wand from his pocket and picks out the perfect spot to hang the mistletoe. "Splendid," he says, grinning at the entrance to the kitchen area. He will have an excuse to kiss his wife before and after every meal now. Not that he really needs one.

As he prepares to cast a charm, movement catches his attention. Rolf shakes his head; he wonders if he's just imagining things, but the sprig of green gives another little twitch, and a tiny creature is visible for a fraction of a moment.

"Luna!" he calls, scurrying back as he lets the mistletoe fall to the floor. "Luna!"

His wife is at his side within seconds, holding two steaming mugs of hot cocoa. Her gaze shifts to the bit of green on the floor, and she nods. "The smell must have gotten their attention," she says serenely.

"What is it?" Rolf asks, though he can already guess the answer.

"It's a Nargle. But where there's one, there's bound to be dozens. Go ahead and set it outside, please."

She says it so casually. Rolf stares at her, jaw slack. It's one thing for him to listen to her talk about these strange things, but it's something entirely to actually see one with his own eyes.

"They'll get all over everything if you don't act quickly," Luna adds, a hint of urgency in her light voice.

"R-right," he says, quickly casting a charm. He doesn't know enough about Nargles to know whether he wants to take a chance actually touching the mistletoe.

It takes only a moment for him to dispose of the mistletoe. "That… So, Nargles are real?" he asks.

His wife beams, offering him a mug of cocoa. "That's what I've been trying to tell you," she chuckles. "No more mistletoe?"

He wraps his free arm around her, pressing a small kiss to her forehead. "No more mistletoe," he agrees. "I can find plenty of excuses to kiss you without it."


	46. Workplace Wanting

_Amber's Attic: Devil, Write about someone unable to resist temptation_

 _Count Your Buttons: paperclip, "What difference does it make?"_

 _Restriction of the Month: no dialogue tag (prompt: questionable)_

 _A Year in Entertainment: NCIS, rules_

 _Jingle Bells: "Baby It's Cold Outside", write about temptation_

 _Love in Motion: PercyBarty Sr_

 _Word Count: 385_

* * *

"Weasley?"

Percy shivers at his name. His proper name. Barty has called him everything else under the sun, but getting his name right now…

"Mr. Crouch, I was wondering something…"

The older man looks up from his paperwork, lips drawn into a thin line. He offers Percy an impatient wave of his hand. "Get on with it. I'm a busy man, you know."

"Right, sir. I know, sir."

Percy's hands tremble as he fidgets with a paperclip. What is he even doing here? This whole thing is so questionable. He shouldn't feel this way about his boss; it isn't right. But his sense of right and wrong does not help him now. He's tried to resist the temptation for so long, but he's never been the strongest person.

"I… Well, you see, sir, I wanted to…" His thumb continues brushing over the bit of metal in his hand. Words have never failed him before, but his voice shakes, and he feels so weak.

"What do you want?"

"You."

There it is. There's the bold Gryffindor coming into play. He's always felt that he'd been Sorted into the wrong House, but he feels a rush of adrenaline heat his veins. Is it bravery or stupidity? Maybe there's a fine line between the two, and Percy is toeing it now.

"Me?"

Percy forces himself not to think about it. Thinking lets logic take over, and he does not want to be logical right now. He wants to give in to desire and be bold and daring.

His legs carry him closer. The paperclip falls to the floor with a soft, metallic _thud_.

 _Don't think, don't think._

"I'm old enough to be your father."

"What difference does it make? You're all I can think about, Barty."

The older man considers for a moment. Percy can see it in his eyes. He's felt this way too, despite how very wrong, how very taboo their desires are. He reaches out, fingers tangling in Percy's curls. "We'll have to be discreet, Weasley."

"Of course, sir."

And as their lips meet, Percy feels a fire inside him like nothing he's ever felt before. He's spent so long playing by the rules and being good, but now, as he melts against the other man, he knows what it feels like to be free.


	47. Hope For the Broken

_Love in Motion: GoyleCho_

 _Word Count: 386_

* * *

She doesn't expect to find comfort after Cedric's death. Even her friends have been avoiding her like she has dragon pox. She is damaged goods— a broken girl to be left behind and forgotten.

Cho certainly doesn't expect to find comfort in a Slytherin, of all people. Life is funny like that sometimes. One moment, she's trying to find the nearest empty room the break down in; the next, she realizes she's not alone.

She's seen him around before. He's one of those thugs that cling to Malfoy. From what she knows of him, his heart is stone.

"Sorry," she says, though she isn't sure why she should apologize to him. He is cruel, uncaring. He doesn't deserve her words.

"You're crying." His head tips to the side curiously, dark eyes narrowing as he studies her.

She waits for the joke. It always comes. Cho's grief has become just another punchline, something to laugh at.

But he doesn't laugh. He moves closer, wiping a tear away with his thumb.

"You shouldn't cry," he says. "Too pretty."

Before Cho can even think of a response, he's gone.

…

She doesn't know why her thoughts keep going back to the Slytherin boy. There's nothing special about him. He's cruel and stupid.

But he hadn't been cruel that day. He had been kind and soft.

"What are you looking at?" Marietta asks.

Cho quickly pulls her gaze away from the younger boy at the Slytherin table. "Nothing," she mumbles. "Nothing."

…

The abandoned classroom becomes their little hiding spot. Cho talks about her grief, how Cedric had been her everything. Gregory talks about his friends, how they don't care about him at all.

"I guess we're both broken in our own ways," she muses.

His hand rests in hers, and she notices the way it trembles. He may look strong and scary to the rest of the world, but he is still human; he still has things to fear, reasons to be nervous.

"I don't want you to be broken," he tells her, leaning closer.

The kiss is unexpected. There is no magic behind it; it doesn't make her feel like everything will be okay, and she will be free again. But it causes a little flutter of hope in her stomach, and Cho remembers that she can heal.


	48. Magical

_Love in Motion: SeverusPetunia_

 _Decorating the Christmas Tree: Petunia_

 _Word Count 338_

* * *

She finds him outside the chapel. An almost smile tugs at her lips. "Couldn't bring yourself to go in either?"

Severus does not return Petunia's good humor. "I wasn't invited," he admits.

Petunia tilts her head to the side, unable to process what he's said. He and Lily had been inseparable once. Part of her had always assumed they would end up together in the end. She wonders what happened between them that Severus hadn't even been invited. Perhaps she should have paid more attention to Lily, and she might have learned.

"That's her loss," Petunia says gently, reaching out and caressing her cheek with her fingertips.

Truthfully, she's always found him attractive. He had been her sister's best friend, though, and that had meant she couldn't even look at him. Now, it seems that Lily has abandoned him.

Severus catches her by the wrist, lips curling into a frown. He brushes his thumb over the ring Vernon had given her. "It is most improper for an engaged woman to flirt with anyone but her intended." Though he clearly tries to put as much steel as possible into the words, his voice quivers. Maybe he isn't as noble as he acts; maybe he isn't immune to desire.

"Maybe I want to do more than flirt," she says. "Maybe I want more than what my boring Muggle fiancé has to offer."

She leans in, her lips on inches from his. It would be the easiest thing to steal a kiss. She closes her eyes, lips pursing.

Severus moves away, shaking his head. "Excuse me," he says quickly, hurrying off and disappearing with a _pop_.

…

When Petunia returns home, Vernon is waiting for her. She smiles and laughs at all his jokes; she knows how to play her part perfectly.

But in the moments where Vernon drones on and her mind begins to drift, she finds herself thinking of Severus. His conversations would have filled with magic.

Her smile feels forced and stiff, but she wears it and pretends.


	49. Snowballs

_Advent Calendar: Write about someone playing in snow_

 _Christmas at the Movies: Love Actually, Write about finding love during the holidays_

 _Jingle Bells: "It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas", FredHermione_

 _Showtime, "Bad Horse Chorus", "Let the games begin."_

 _Count Your Buttons: impressive_

 _Word Count: 570_

* * *

"Let the games begin!"

Hermione rolls her eyes when she hears the declaration. She keeps her head down and clutches her books a little closer to her chest as she makes her way across the quad. The last thing she needs is to get caught up in one of Fred and George's silly games.

Luck, unfortunately, is not on her side. She feels a soft thump against her shoulder, followed by a flurry of ice crystals as a snowball explodes against her coat. "Hey!"

Fred offers her an unapologetic smile and a quick shrug of his shoulders. "You're out in the open," he says innocently. "Fair game!"

Hermione scowls. For a moment, she considers stalking back to the castle and ignoring the twins. Still, she knows it won't make a difference.

Quickly casting a charm to prevent her books from water damage, she sets her things aside. The only way to get them to leave her alone is to play the game, and she's been in plenty of snowball fights before. One more won't hurt, and her studying can wait a moment longer.

As Fred and George continue chuckling and crafting snowballs to hurl at unsuspecting victims, Hermione quickly rolls a few balls of snow. She takes careful aim, smiling proudly as one bursts against the back of Fred's head.

He turns, brows raised, looking for the culprit. When he realizes it's Hermione, his surprise fades into an amused admiration. "Impressive!" he calls, hurling another snowball at her. Hermione doesn't move fast enough, and it grazes her cheek. "Didn't know you had it in you, Hermione."

"I'm full of surprises," she laughs, launching two more. One crashes against George's chest while Fred manages to duck away from the other.

She loses track of time. Everything seems to move so fast, and yet it feels like hardly any time has passed at all. The three of them exchange snowballs as they run and skid across the slick grounds. It's only when her skin feels like ice and her bones feel stiff and frozen that Hermione decides she had better get back inside. While Madam Pomfrey may have plenty of vials of Pepperup Potion, Hermione doesn't fancy having to visit the hospital wing.

"I'll walk with you."

Hermione considers reminding Fred that she knows her way around the castle, but there's something about the way he smiles at her as he jogs over. There's something gentle in his expression, almost hopeful.

"You should relax more often," he says. "You're lovely when you're having fun. I mean… You're always lovely, but…"

Hermione blushes, holding her books close as they enter Hogwarts. "Thank you," he says.

"I mean it. You really are lovely. And smart, and everything," Fred continues.

She waits for the punchline. Even paying a compliment warrants some sort of joke in the end. To her surprise, however, his features remain composed, and there is nothing but honesty in his eyes.

"Have a drink with me," he says. "A nice hot cocoa by the fireplace in the common room."

She should probably tell him no. She has research to do over the holidays; he's her best friend's brother. Excuse after excuse passes through her mind, but she finds herself grinning instead. "I'd love to."

Fred puts an arm around her as they walk along. A smile tugs at her lips as she realzies this is what it's like to take a chance.


	50. Cocoa

_Decorating the Christmas Tree: thoughtful_

 _Restriction of the Month (no dialogue tags): Blaise Zabini_

 _Advent Calendar: Day 17, fluffy socks (write something fluffy)_

 _Word Count: 343_

* * *

"You look like you could use this."

Daphne turns her attention to him, and Blaise feels breathless. Even with windswept hair and cheeks rosy from the chilly air, she is still absolutely gorgeous. Her lips tug into a radiant smile as she accepts the mug of cocoa. "How thoughtful." She blows on it before taking a sip. "Did you bring enough for everyone?"

No one is around who might hear her. Blaise is grateful. The last thing he needs is a swarm of his Housemates demanding to know where their cocoa is.

"I don't really care about anyone else."

A small laugh escapes her lips. Daphne takes a deeper drink of the warm, chocolatey liquid before moving closer. Blaise swallows dryly. They're almost close enough to touch.

She peers up at him through her long lashes. "Does that make me special?"

He almost laughs. Blaise knows what they say about him. He's too picky; no boy or girl can hold his attention for more than a few seconds. Truthfully, though, he doesn't want anyone else. From the moment he first laid eyes on Daphne Greengrass he knew she was the only person he could ever love.

"Very special."

His cool and calm mask seems to break. He trembles slightly as he closes the distance between them. Daphne's smile broadens as she leans against him.

"You're going to break a lot of hearts when they find out." She pauses, taking another gulp of cocoa before shivering. "Still cold."

"I hear body heat can fix that."

Another laugh. She flashes him a mischievous grin. "Body heat and a fireplace?"

Blaise doesn't even have to stop and think about it. He wraps his arm around her, and they start toward the castle. The common room will be mostly empty, and they will be able to enjoy each other's company without interruption for a few moments.

As they make their way through the corridor, he can't help but smile. He's wanted to be with Daphne for so long, and all it took was a cup of cocoa.


	51. Waiting

_Yule Ball: Write about an odd pairing._

 _Word Count: 388_

* * *

Oliver feels his heart shatter when he sees Colin's small body among the rubble. He kneels beside the younger wizard, silently praying as he checks for a pulse; there is none.

"Please," he whispers. "Please, don't be gone."

" _I thought you were the leader of Harry's fan club," Oliver teases._

 _The younger Gryffindor swallows dryly. His gaze drops, eyes fixed upon the camera that's clutched so tightly in his hands. A brilliant pink stains his cheeks. "I just like Harry," he mumbles. "You..."_

 _Oliver raises his brows, curious. "What about me?"_

 _The blush only darkens, and Oliver understands._

Oliver shakes the fallen warrior gently, tears in his eyes. Colin shouldn't even be here. He should have left.

"Stubborn idiot," he says fondly, his words choked and strained. "You should have known better."

But Oliver isn't surprised. Colin has always had a heart of gold. How could he run away when others needed him?

" _Why can't we date?"_

 _Oliver rolls his eyes when Colin finds him after his first Puddlemere match._

" _Is it because you're famous now?"_

" _It's because you're young," Oliver says. "I can't just date a twelve year old."_

 _It's just infatuation. One day, Colin will realize that. He'll understand that he is just impressed by Oliver's Quidditch talents. Nothing more, nothing less._

" _I'll wait," the younger boy assures him. "When I'm older, we can be together. If you want, I mean…"_

 _Oliver chuckles. "We'll see."_

His fingers brush through Colin's hair, a sad smile on his lips. He had grown fond of the young wizard over the years. There could have been something there.

Now, he will never know.

" _I'll be old enough when the war is over," Colin tells him._

 _Oliver closes his eyes and inhales deeply. Truthfully, he doesn't even know if the war will ever end._

" _Dennis and I have to run," the young man continues. "I just wanted to let you know."_

 _Oliver pulls him into a hug, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Be safe," he whispers. "Be safe for me."_

He feels a hand on his shoulder and glances up to see Neville at his side.

"Need a hand?" Neville asks gently.

Under ordinary circumstances, Oliver could easily carry Colin on his own. Now, however, he's trembling and barely trusts himself to do more than nod.

"Thank you," he whispers.


	52. Hold On

_Yule Ball: Write about Percy Weasley_

 _Word Count: 419_

* * *

"Penny?"

Penelope looks up at him, and his heart skips a beat. Percy feels tears prick his eyes. He had been so afraid when he'd heard that she'd been Petrified; even knowing that a remedy was being prepared hadn't calmed him. Now, she's here again, and the universe feels so much brighter.

"Are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to say something?" she asks, her voice soft and teasing.

Percy clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. Color warms his cheeks as he takes a steadying breath. It shouldn't be so hard to talk to her. They've been dating for a year now; she's his girlfriend, his best friend.

"I was wondering if you'd like to be more public about our relationship," he says.

"I thought you wanted to keep it a secret."

He laughs softly. He had been an idiot for that, so afraid of the endless teasing that would spew from his brothers' mouths. Now, it isn't a secret anymore; Ginny knows, and it's only a matter of time before the others are in on it.

Still, he realizes he can handle their laughter and jokes. Penelope had only been Petrified for a short time, but it had given him a lot to think about. He could have lost her, and the world would have never understood his tears. She could have been taken from this world, and he would have had to live with the guilt, always afraid that he hadn't done enough.

"To hell with secrecy," he says, taking her hand gently in his before pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I love you, Penelope, and I want the world to know it."

The words fall from his lips before he can stop them. _Love_. He's felt it for a while but has kept it to himself. It's such a powerful word that holds so much promise and commitment.

She's silent for several moments. Percy wishes he could take his words back and make her forget. This isn't how he had hoped to tell her his feelings at all.

Finally, a small smile stretches her lips, and she leans in closer. "I love you too, Percy," she tells him, offering him a quick, chaste kiss. "And I would love to be your girlfriend in public."

Percy holds her closer, unable to shake the giddiness that seems to tickle his insides. In that moments, all his fears and doubts seem to melt away. He has Penelope, and he will hold on.


	53. Feel Better

_For the Yule Ball: Write about Alastor Moody ._

 _Word Count: 357_

* * *

"You look awful," Ambrosius says, his lips pulled into a worried frown. He hurries closer, taking Alastor by the hand. "Rough day at work?"

Alastor scrubs his free hand over the back of his neck. It's always rough day in his line of work; today just happened to be worse than usual. "Had to make a stop at Azkaban before I could call it a day," he answers.

He shudders. There aren't many things that can shake the Auror, but Dementors are pretty high on that list. Even with a Patronus Charm, he still feels absolutely drained.

Ambrosius nods before disappearing into the next room. Alastor stares off after him, confused. Normally, his lover is quick to offer him comfort and affection. While he's never been the touchy feely type, Alastor can't help but feel a bit miffed about being left alone.

"I try to tell you that keeping chocolate on hand is a good idea," Ambrosius sighs as he reappears through the doorway. "Do you listen? Of course not. Stubborn grouch."

Alastor scowls. "I'm not stubborn," he mutters.

A teasing grin plays at his lover's lips. "So, you admit you're a grouch?" he chuckles, shaking his head as he slips a bar of chocolate into Alastor's hand.

Alastor remains silent. Ambrosius thinks he's so clever. Cheeky bastard.

Grudgingly, he nibbles the chocolate. It works, of course. Slowly, his tension seems to melt away. The chill that had made a home inside his bones lifts, and he offers Ambrosius a small smile of gratitude.

"Better?"

"Don't gloat."

"You feel better, and you know it," the younger man says brightly.

Alastor shakes his head, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "You were right; I was wrong," he admits. "Are you happy now?"

Ambrosius closes the distance between them, pressing a kiss to the Auror's cheek. "Much. Now, help me with dinner."

Before Alastor can remind his partner that he's had a difficult day at work, Ambrosius rushes into the kitchen. Alastor takes another bite of the chocolate before following behind. It seems his work is never done.

Still, he wouldn't trade this life for anything in the world.


	54. Celebrity Crush

Yule Ball: Write about unrequited love.

Word Count: 468

* * *

His siblings laugh at him and call it a crush. Maybe they're right, but Ron will never tell them that. They give him enough hell as it is.

Still, he can't help it. There's something about Viktor Krum that draws him in.

…

"Did you see Krum?" he asks when the match ends. "Bloody hell! Graceful bloke."

"Ickle Ronnie is in love!" Fred laughs.

George smirks and nudges his twin. "Reckon they'll invite us the wedding, Fred?"

With that, the twins walk off, laughing and teasing. Ginny muffles her laughter with her hands, but light giggles can still be heard.

Ron scowls and stalks off. He doesn't even turn when Harry and Hermione call after him.

…

"Do you fancy Krum?" Harry asks.

Ron hesitates. He studies his best friend, unsure if he's having a laugh. Harry seems sincere, and there is only curiosity in his green eyes. "A bit," he admits with a shrug. "Not like it would ever happen, you know? He's a bloody Quidditch superstar."

"You never know."

Ron shakes his head, a sad smile on his lips. He knows that Harry is trying to be helpful, but it's all so silly. The match will be the closest he'll ever get to Viktor Krum.

…

Viktor Krum is at Hogwarts. Ron's eyes remain locked on the handsome Bulgarian wizard, but he still can't believe it.

Harry offers him a knowing smile. "You never know," he mumbles.

Ron returns his attention to Viktor; he can't seem to look away. If he wanted to, he get up, walk over to the Slytherin table, and introduce himself. Instead, he stays where he is, his eyes still fixed upon the famous young man.

It will never happen. He's an idiot for even dreaming.

…

"Will you be asking anyone to the ball?"

Ron rolls his eyes. It's an innocent enough question, but he knows that tone. Harry mean a well, of course, but he doesn't seem to understand that Ron can't just act on his feelings.

"I dunno, mate. No one really catches my eye."

It's true enough. Over the past few months, he's only been able to think of Viktor. It will never happen, and he keeps those desires tucked away.

"How'd it go with Cho?"

Harry sighs. "Miserably."

Ron almost smiles. If the famous Harry Potter can't get the girl he wants, there really isn't much hope for him.

…

He isn't jealous. He tells himself that over and over, but something acidic still seems to eat away at his insides.

Hermione looks lovely, but Ron's eyes focus on the handsome wizard at her side.

In that moment, he understands. Viktor will never look at him. Just as Ron only has eyes for the famous Seeker, Viktor only has eyes for Hermione.

Celebrity crushes are the worst.


	55. Dreams of Redemption

_For the Yule Ball: Write about falling asleep._

 _Also for the anon reviewer, Sarah, who asked for GeorgeDaphne, something not happy. Your wish is my command!_

 _Word Count: 513_

* * *

He is broken. Daphne can see that the moment her eyes find him in the crowded pub.

She understands, of course. George Weasley is well known, and there isn't a soul in wizarding Britain who doesn't know about his twin's death the day before.

Daphne hesitates. Her intentions are good, but will he believe her? Sometimes the Weasleys can be just as prejudiced as her House. Will he only see her as a Slytherin, an enemy looking to rub salt on the wounds?

With a shrug, she decides to move closer; she won't know unless she tries.

"Need a refill?" she asks sweetly.

He spares her a brief glance before returning his gaze to his drink. A scowl tugs at his lips, but he doesn't speak.

"I'm sorry about your brother."

That gets more of a reaction. He flinches at her words before draining the last of his drink and slamming his glass against the counter.

"Another," Daphne calls, gesturing for Rosmerta. "And a gillywater for me."

"Why are you being so nice?" he asks, and there's something in his voice that's half suspicion, half pain.

"Slytherins aren't all bad, you know. My family refused to back the Dark Lord," she answers simply, exchanging coins for the drinks.

George goes silent again, but his posture relaxes, and he chooses to sip this drink rather than down it as quickly as possible. Daphne takes that as a good sign.

"I miss him," he says, his voice so quiet that Daphne is barely sure he's spoken at all. "I miss him so much already. I don't know how I'm going to make it."

Daphne rests her hand on his. She can't imagine what he's going through. Just the thought of losing Astoria is enough to make her heart feel as though it's being ripped to shreds.

"I've never been apart from him," George mumbles, and Daphne notices the tears streaking his freckled face.

Her hands tremble as she reaches out and brushes her fingers over his cheek, wiping away the tears. George tenses, but he doesn't push her hand away.

"I don't want to be alone."

"You don't have to be," she tells him.

…

He wouldn't be doing this if he wasn't lonely. It's okay; Daphne wouldn't be here if she wasn't looking for redemption.

She should have stayed and fought. Instead, she had proven herself a true Slytherin, only concerned with saving her own skin. She's disgusted with herself.

If the only thing she can do is chase away his loneliness for one night, she'll take it.

…

She lays beside him, watching his bare chest rise and fall slowly. George looks peaceful now, if only in his sleep.

Daphne leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek before sinking into the pillow. She wishes this could be normal, but it isn't. She's just a soul with good intentions, trying so hard to make something right. This isn't love, and it will never be.

But it will have to be enough.

She closes her eyes and slowly falls into a fitful sleep.


	56. Together

_Yule Ball: Write about listening to someone's secret._

 _Word Count: 670_

* * *

Blaise doesn't mean to overhear the conversation. He has never been one for eavesdropping, but sometimes it just happens. Ordinarily, he'd keep walking; gossip has never really appealed to him. However, he recognizes one of those voices as his boyfriend, and curiosity gets the best of him.

"I know what I'm doing," Theo says firmly.

"You really have no idea what you're asking." Draco's voice is soft, almost broken. He's changed so much since sixth year started, but Blaise can't quite put his finger on what's changed.

"I'm joining the Dark Lord," Theo insists.

Blaise feels his insides freeze. He swallows dryly, shaking his head. Theo's father is a Death Eater; it's common enough knowledge. But Theo is too kind, too good to follow in those footsteps.

Blaise has never approved of the Dark Lord, though he would never dare voice his opposition. The Slytherin common room has far too many supporters. Talking can be risky.

But Theo knows how he feels. There have been too many nights of laying awake, talking about their hopes and fears. He had confided his doubts in Theo. How could his boyfriend want this life? It feels like such a betrayal.

"You joined."

"I had no choice," Draco says, and Blaise finally understands why the blond has seemed so drain and deranged lately. "You're making a mistake, Nott."

"We'll see. I do hope your master doesn't find out you're talking like that, mate," Theo says coldly. "I can't imagine he would be terribly pleased, do you?"

Blaise walks off, keeping pace brisk. Behind him, he hears a door open, followed by two sets of footsteps. He doesn't look back; he keeps his head down as he always does.

…

"When were you planning to tell me?" Blaise asks as he and Theo sit atop the Astronomy Tower, eyes fixed upon the starry skies.

He feels Theo shift beside him, but he doesn't look at him. "Tell you what?"

"That you're planning to join the Dark Lord."

His boyfriend tenses. "Did Draco tell you? Did I hope you could dissuade me?"

"I overheard you two talking."

He expects Theo to lash out. Maybe the other boy realizes how hypocritical it would be because he remains silent.

"Why would you even think about it?" Blaise demands. "It's too risky."

"My father is pressuring me. He says it's the right thing to do."

"It isn't." The words come out harsher than Blaise had intended, but he doesn't apologize. Now is the time to stand his ground.

He finally looks at Theo, and his heart breaks. He can see the pain and confusion in his lover's eyes. This isn't the life that Theo wants, and Blaise wonders how he can make him see that.

"So, what? Are you a Muggle lover now?" Theo asks.

"Hardly," Blaise says dryly. "But picking a side is dangerous. Picking the wrong side is worse."

"How do you know it's the wrong one?"

Blaise takes Theo's hand gently in his and guides it to his chest. "I feel it in my heart. There's no need for bloodshed. Don't do this, Theo. For me, please."

His boyfriend slumps against him, resting his head on Blaise's shoulder. Blaise knows it can't be easy. There is so much pressure these days, and it can be easy to give in to it. He just hopes Theo can see reason.

"I don't know how to refuse," Theo mutters. "I'm not like you. Your mum isn't trying to force you into some life that you don't even want."

Blaise pulls him close, pressing his lips to Theo's. It's a quick kiss, gentle compared to the many intense ones they've shared over the years. But it's enough. "We'll figure it out together."

"Together." His lips quirk into a smile.

"Together," Blaise confirms. "We'll make this right."

And he doesn't know what will happen. Maybe it will work. Or maybe Theo will choose the wrong path. In that moment, it doesn't matter. They have each other, and Blaise is at peace.


	57. Starlight

_2018 Resolutions: Write a fic set in Marauders Era_

 _365 Prompts Challenge: (title) Starlight_

 _Bath Bomb Appreciation: Write about kissing someone your character shouldn't_

 _Buttons: JamesNarcissa, pretty_

 _Restriction of the Month: No characters older than 20 (Marauders Era)_

 _Word Count: 757_

* * *

The Astronomy Tower is where she feels the most alive. There's something about the fresh air and the twinkling stars above her that makes Narcissa feel at peace. Here, while everyone else sleeps, there are no expectations. She is not a perfect little Pureblood burdened with pressure and tradition; she is just Narcissa Black.

The footsteps behind her draw her out of her thoughts. She turns, her heart racing, ready to offer some feeble excuse as to why she's out of bed after curfew. Instead of a professor, however, she's greeted by a boy with messy hair and hazel eyes.

"Potter," she says curtly.

"That's me!" he retorts, a cheeky grin pulling at his lips.

"I came up here to be alone."

He shrugs and moves closer. "You don't own the castle," he laughs, leaning against the railing. "I suppose we could always call a professor over to help settle this, but I'm sure you don't want to be caught after curfew."

Narcissa fixes her gaze pointedly ahead. Though she's annoyed, she can't help but smile. Most people give in to her every whim. There's something almost satisfying about his stubbornness.

"What brings you out here so late?" he asks, breaking the silence between them. "Normal people like to sleep at half three."

"You're one to talk."

He turns to her, that brilliant grin still on his lips. "The day someone accuses me of being normal will be the day someone accuses Snape of having good hair."

"That's mean!" And yet Narcissa cannot help but giggle.

James shrugs before adjusting his glasses. "Back to my question. Why are you up here?"

Narcissa glances at him, her heart fluttering. Why is it so tempting to open up to James? They aren't friends; until this moment, neither have even spoken to the other. There's something warm and inviting about him, though. He feels safe, like could bury her secrets inside his soul and know that he'll never betray them.

After a moment, she lets out a weary sigh. Her eyes flicker back to the stars that twinkle above them. "Over the holidays, I became engaged," she answers.

"Congratulations?"

"To Lucius Malfoy."

James makes a sound like he's about to vomit. "Git," he says bluntly. "Forget my congratulatory sentiment."

Again, Narcissa is surprised to find herself laughing. She's so used to hearing people talk about how wonderful Lucius is and what an honor it is to marry into the Malfoy family. It's nice to have someone who refuses to kiss their ass. James Potter may be a Pureblood, but he's so different from the ones she's used to.

"I don't even know if I love him or if I could learn to love him," she continues. "I've never even kissed anyone else, and…"

She trails off, her cheeks burning. James may be safe, but she also knows she shouldn't trust him with everything. At the end of the day, he's still a Gryffindor. Some rivalries aren't meant to be broken.

He offers her his hand. For a moment, Narcissa can only stare at it in confusion. With a laugh, he takes her hand and pulls her closer. "Well, I can't let your first kiss be with someone as despicable as Malfoy," he says quietly.

Narcissa shivers as she realizes what's about to happen. She knows she shouldn't; even if she's unhappy, she's still engaged. Everything about this is wrong.

Somehow, she doesn't care. Her eyes close, and she leans in. He lips find hers, and there's an eruption of butterflies in her stomach. This is what it feels like to be kissed by someone who can actually love her. There is no force behind it, and they aren't putting on a show for the world to see. There is nothing but sincerity and tranquility on his lips.

When they break apart, she feels her heart drop to her stomach. She shouldn't have done that; it was a foolish thing to do. And yet, she smiles because it was so perfect. Bathed in the light of the moon and stars, she had received the most beautiful kiss, and she knows Lucius can never compete with that.

"Thank you," she mumbles, because she doesn't know what else to say.

"I assure you, the pleasure was all mean," he says. "It isn't often that I get a chance to kiss a pretty girl."

Silence falls between them again. Her eyes return to the sky.

Now, she doesn't feel so alone, and the smile she wears feels genuine. And it's all because of Potter.


	58. More Than Quidditch

_2018 Resolutions: Write about a Quidditch player_

 _365 Prompts: (action) listening to the rain on the window_

 _Bath Bomb, Rain Dance: Set your story in a heavy rainstorm_

 _Buttons: Percy Weasley, "Why do I bother?"_

 _Sticker Challenge, broom: Write about a known Quidditch player_

 _Yule Ball: Write about practicing for something_

 _Word Count: 571_

* * *

Oliver ignores the heavy rain that beats down on him. Matches don't stop for anything, and neither does he. It doesn't matter that the rest of the team opted out of practice due to the weather. He is determined to get his practice in; it will give him an advantage whenever they have a rainy match.

He flies freely, sputtering as water finds its way into his mouth. It doesn't stop him. It's just part of the sport, and he can live with that. Quidditch isn't always easy. Oliver wants to be prepared.

It takes several moments for him to notice a voice. It's mostly drowned out by the wind and rain, but he finally hears a disgruntled, "Why do I bother?"

Oliver drops his altitude curiously. His vision is blurred by the storm, and he quite literally crashes into Percy Weasley.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, Perce. What are you doing out here in this storm?" Oliver asks.

Percy stares at him incredulously for a moment, his mouth opening and closing without a word. "What am _I_ doing out here?" the perfect finally manages. "What the hell are _you_ doing out here?"

"Practicing," Oliver answers causally, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're ridiculous. Get inside."

Oliver starts to protest but quickly reconsiders. His boyfriend may be much more reserved than his brothers, but he's still as stubborn as the others. He shrugs. "So be it."

Percy lectures him the whole way back. By now, Oliver is used to it. Percy would make a fine professor one day; he's always so happy to enlighten people and scold them when necessary. It may be annoying, but Oliver has come to consider it an endearing trait.

"What if you get sick?" Percy continues as they make their way up the staircase. "Sure, Madam Pomfrey can fix you up, but come on. Do you really want to spend even a second sniffling and coughing."

"No, dear," Oliver answers dryly.

Percy glances at him. His skin is dotted by droplets of rain, but a deep blush is visible in his cheeks. "Why do you sound so condescending?"

"Why are you so distrustful?"

Percy's blush darkens, but he lets the subject drop. The rest of their walk back to Gryffindor Tower is quiet. As much as Oliver enjoys the silence, he already misses Percy's lectures. They can be quite amusing sometimes.

His boyfriend gives the password, and the portrait swings open. Oliver leads the way up to their dormitory.

Now that he's inside, he notices just how cold he is. Shivering, he quickly tugs off his drenched shirt. "Kinda cold," he mutters.

"And whose fault is that?" Percy asks without sympathy as he disappears behind his bed's curtains.

Oliver pouts as he finishes stripping down and changing into dry clothes. "Still cold," he says.

Percy gestures him close with a quick crook of his finger; Oliver happily follows, allowing his boyfriend to wrap his arms around him.

The rain still pounds against the window, tempting Oliver. The sky is calling out to him, and he wants more than anything to get back out there, mount his broom, and finish his solo practice. Still, Percy is so warm and gentle, and Oliver realizes that he's perfectly happy to remain in his arms.

Smiling to himself, he rests his head against Percy's shoulder. It seems impossible, but maybe he's found something he loves more than Quidditch.


	59. That Will Be Enough

_Insane House Competition: (pairing) LavenderPansy_

 _365 Prompts Challenge: (food) Chocolate Frogs_

 _Resolutions: Write a pairing you've never written before_

 _Bath Bomb Appreciation: Lavender Musk (write about Lavender Brown)_

 _Yule Ball: Write about someone known for their beauty_

 _Sticker Challenge, Malfoy Manor: Write about a Pureblood_

 _Word Count: 599_

* * *

Pansy doesn't know what brings her back to Hogwarts when the fighting is finally over. Well, she knows exactly what it is, but she can't bring herself to voice it. It's so very wrong, and she isn't quite ready to admit that she isn't the perfect Pureblood she's meant to be.

She keeps her head down, but people still notice her. Angry whispers follow her throughout the castle, but she forces herself to ignore them. She deserves the sneers and hostility.

By some miracle, she makes it to the hospital wing without any confrontation. Now, her confidence fades. She almost wants to turn back and face all those angry students and let them do their worst. Anger is so much better than what's waiting for her behind those doors.

After several moments, Pansy takes a deep breath that does nothing to steady her nerves. She has to do this. The girl she loves more than anything in the world is in there suffering.

Parvati glares at her when she reaches the bed, but she doesn't speak. Pansy is sure the Gryffindor has a lot to say, but this might be Lavender's deathbed. Now is not the time. "Nice is you to finally show up," she snaps instead.

"Can we have a moment alone?"

Parvati looks like she wants to protest. Her mouth opens but quickly closes again. She shrugs wildly before prodding a slender finger against Pansy's chest. "I never liked you. After that stunt you pulled in the Great Hall, you're lucky I don't hex you into oblivion," she says, her voice low and dangerous. "But I know she loves you, so I will allow it."

Before Pansy can even thank her, Parvati stalks off, muttering darkly under her breath.

Pansy moves closer to the bed, and her heart breaks. Lavender has always been so beautiful. She's taken so much pride in her clear, creamy skin and honey blonde curls. Now, her face and body are marred with raised scars. The blood has been washed away, but Pansy can imagine how bad it must have been.

And she had been a coward. Pansy had been so quick to give up Potter; she'd been more than happy to run away. Lavender had been brave and bold, and Pansy realizes now that she truly doesn't deserve the beautiful girl on the bed.

Lavender's eyes open. Her lips quirk into a small smile that quickly fades as she cries out.

"Careful," Pansy cautions, gently pushing her fingers through Lavender's curls.

"You came back," Lavender whispers.

"Of course I did. Couldn't leave the love of my life to suffer, could I? I brought you something." Pansy digs in her purse before pulling out a few Chocolate Frogs. "Chocolate always makes me feel better, even if it's just a little bit."

Lavender reaches out and takes one. She feels the foil away and carefully nibbles at the sweet. Pansy watches, her heart breaking.

She should have stayed. If she had been there, maybe Lavender wouldn't have gotten hurt. She tries to tell herself that it isn't her fault, that war has casualties, but she still blames herself.

"I was a coward," Pansy whispers.

Lavender takes her hand. "You did what you thought was right," she assures her. "It wasn't a good choice, but it came from the hard. Besides, you came back."

Pansy sits on the edge of the bed and presses a chaste kiss to her lover's forehead. "I'll always come back for you."

Lavender's thumb brushes gently over Pansy's knuckles. Though smiling pains her, she looks content. "That will be enough."


	60. With You

_Insane House Competition: Albus Potter_

 _Book Club, Sanjit: invincible, Albus Potter, flying_

 _Showtime, "For Forever": "There's nowhere I'd rather be."_

 _Buttons: Scorpius Malfoy_

 _365 Prompts: reading_

 _Bath Bomb Appreciation, Azure Skies: Set your fic on a beautiful, sunny day._

 _Word Count: 654_

* * *

"Are you really going to stay inside all day?" Albus asks.

Scorpius doesn't bother to glance up from his book. His pale eyes continue to move along the page. Albus sighs impatiently, unable to resist a quick stamp of his foot.

"I'm reading," Scorpius says simply. "Your cousin is ahead of me in Charms, and that just won't do."

Now, Albus can't help but chuckle. His boyfriend's rivalry with Rose has always been so intense; for a while, that rivalry had been mistaken for infatuation. "She's my rival too," Albus reminds him.

"Busy girl," Scorpius notes, still reading along and refusing to look at Albus. "I think she's everyone's rival at this point."

Albus waits for Scorpius to give in and put down the book. His eyes shift to the window; it's such a nice day outside. The sky is a pure blue, and there isn't a cloud in sight. It almost feels like a crime to stay inside the castle all day. Scorpius, however, doesn't even seem to notice the sunshine filtering in through the library's windows.

With a groan, Albus reaches out, taking the book from his boyfriend. Now, Scorpius' attention shifts. His eyes narrow as he holds out an expectant hand. "I was reading that."

"And you can finish reading when we get back. Come on, Scor! Look outside!" Albus gestures toward the window. "Do you really want to stay in the castle when it's so perfect out?"

"That actually sounds like a brilliant idea," Scorpius mutters. Still, he climbs to his feet, shoulders slack in defeat. "Where are we going?"

"I want to practice flying," Albus answers. "Rose is Captain this year, so I have to be perfect to convince her to let me on the team."

Scorpius offers him a sympathetic look before placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Albus, I love you. You're brilliant at a lot of things, but flying isn't one of them."

Scowling, Albus links his arm with Scorpius' and stalks off, guiding the other boy along. "That's why I have to practice!"

"If you say so…"

…

Albus feels unsteady on the broom. Maybe Scorpius is right. Maybe he should give up his dreams of living up to the Potter name and being a Quidditch player.

"You got this!"

Scorpius is kind and encouraging, and it makes Albus feel invincible. Maybe he will never be an outstanding Quidditch player, but he can still dream.

"Look at me!" he calls down as he flies near the goal post. "I'm invincible! You can't vince me!"

"That… That doesn't make sense."

Albus laughs. Scorpius is a little too literal, and it's adorable. Unfortunately, his laughter distracts him long enough that he collides with the post. Albus cries out as he loses control of his broomstick.

 _I'm going to die_ , he thinks, panicking as his broom begins to spiral downward.

One of the many good things about dating Scorpius Malfoy is that he's highly intelligent and has a spell for everything. Albus can't quite make out his boyfriend's words because he's screaming, but when he finally crashes against the ground, there is no pain.

Albus lays on his back for several moments, staring up at the clear blue sky above him. His chest rises and falls quickly as he frantically sucks in breath after breath that fails to calm his nerves.

"You tried," Scorpius says softly, gripping Albus' hand and pulling him up. "Wanna give it another go?"

"I thought you wanted to finish your reading."

Scorpius considers for a moment before shrugging. "I'm with you," he answers. "There's nowhere I'd rather be."

Albus smiles and picks up his broomstick. "One more try."

"Be careful. I don't want to have to visit you in the hospital wing."

Albus presses a quick kiss to his boyfriend's lips. "I'll try my best, dear."

And with, he shoots into the air, grinning. He couldn't ask for a more perfect day.


	61. Safe

_Insane House Competition: RabastanAndromeda_

 _365 Prompts Challenge: only characters from one era_

 _Showtime, "Only Us": only two characters_

 _Happy Newt Year: midnight, write about a kiss_

 _Sticker Challenge: emerald, hope_

 _Word Count: 509_

* * *

"Do you ever sleep?"

Rabastan's deep, soothing voice draws Andromeda out of her thoughts. Her attention shifts from the book she's been staring at for the past hour or so to the dark haired boy before her.

"Nightmares," she answers simply.

He studies her for a moment before sitting in the chair across from her. Andromeda isn't used to having company this late, and she usually hates to be interrupted. The Slytherin common room is always so peaceful at night when there is no one else around. Still, somehow, she realizes she doesn't mind too much. Rabastan has always been pleasant enough to her.

"What sort of nightmares?" he asks.

She shrugs. "I never remember them.I just wake in a cold sweat, and my heart pounds, and…"

Andromeda trails off, shuddering. She doesn't know what she's so afraid. There's supposed to be meanings in dreams, but hers are nothing but blurs and chaos. There is nothing to learn from them.

Rabastan studies for her a moment. She waits for him to laugh at her. After all, how pathetic does a person have to be to be afraid of something they can't name? After a few seconds of silence, however, he climbs to his feet and closes the distance between them, sitting beside her on the couch. His hand rests on hers.

Andromeda stares down at their hands, a small flutter tickling her stomach. She swallows dryly. Why does this feel so natural? She's always preferred to be by herself. Still, there is something so comforting about his gentle touch.

"I can be your teddy bear," he says, and though is tone is light and joking, his dark eyes hold no humor. "I'll chase away your nightmares."

She laughs softly. "My hero."

"I can only hope."

Before she can think of anything to say, he leans in. Their lips meet in a quick, sweet kiss. Andromeda pulls away, the soft fluttering increasing tenfold.

"Maybe I didn't read the signs right," Rabastan murmurs. "I hope you didn't mind that."

"It was nice, actually," she assures him, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Rabastan pulls her close, and his lips find hers again. This time, there is nothing gentle about the kiss. Though it is still tender and not demanding, she can taste the passion on his tongue. When they break apart this time, she feels almost disappointed.

"That…" She clears her throat, smoothing her hands over her blouse. "That should be enough to give me pleasant dreams."

Rabastan offers a polite bow of his head. "Then my job here is done."

He starts to rise, but Andromeda catches his wrist. "I wouldn't mind if you stayed a little longer," she says quietly. "I like your company."

The boy relaxes against the couch again, a satisfied grin on his face. "Good."

She no longer needs her book to distract her from whatever demons are in her dreams. As she leans against Rabastan, listening to his steady breath, she feels at peace for the first time in what feels like forever.


	62. Abandon Logic

_Insane House Competition: Alice Longbottom_

 _365 Prompts: (title) Abandon Logic_

 _Sticker Challenge, Hogwarts Express: Write about a long trip across the country_

 _Character Appreciation: starting a new life_

 _Showtime, "If I Could Tell Her": indigo_

 _Kiss a Ginger Day: Lily Evans in a romantic relationship_

 _Restriction of the Month: no characters under 20, quote below_

 _Bath Bomb Appreciation: All You Need Is Love: Write about someone who believes the answer to everything is true love_

 _Word Count: 529_

* * *

" _The secret to happiness is freedom. And the secret to freedom is courage."- Thucydides_

* * *

It takes Lily about a month of being married to realize that she cannot stand to pretend to be what she is not. She cares deeply for James, but she's come to realize that she doesn't love him _like that._ He is sweet, but she just can't bring herself to love him the he loves her.

She considers staying. After all, why should she run away when she can at least be somewhat happy, even if she isn't in love? She can be a woman fortunate enough to live with her best friend.

In the end, though, she knows it isn't fair for either of them. True love is more important than anything else, and both she and James deserve to have that.

Heart heavy, she pulls out two scraps of parchment and her favorite indigo ink. On the first, she writes a letter to her husband, asking that the could one day learn to forgive her and understand that all she wants is for both of them to find happiness. The second letter is message shorter; she on leaves a time, place, and all her love.

Once the second letter has been sent and the first has been placed somewhere obvious for James to find, Lily packs a bag.

…

"Are you sure about this?" Alice asks when they meet at the train station.

Lily holds up the tickets she's already purchased, a small smile on her lips. "About running away? Honestly, I'm terrified. But about running away with you?" She transfers the tickets to one hand and pulls Alice close, pressing a kiss to the other woman's lips. "I've never been more certain."

…

Lily likes watching the countryside pass them by in brilliant blurs of greys and browns. It's almost like going to Hogwarts, but this times something even more spectacular awaits them.

She's free. Maybe she's still trembling, so worried about the unknown, but there is no fear. Alice is by her side, and they can finally escape and be themselves.

It isn't logical. Lily is well aware of that. For once, though, she doesn't care about logic and expectations. There is only her and Alice, and that's more than enough.

"I love you," she says.

Alice leans over and rests her head on Lily shoulder, pressing a kiss to a bit of exposed skin. "I love you too."

And that's all it takes for Lily to know that they're doing the right thing.

…

After hours on the train, they arrive at the sea. Once upon a time, they would lay together by the Black Lake and talk about running away together, always to the sea.

The salty air whips at Lily's hair. She holds Alice's hand a little tighter, a radiant smile playing at her lips. "We did it," she whispers.

Alice pulls her close, and they stand there in silence for several moments, looking at this place that will be their new home. They've spent so long dreaming, but now their dreams have finally come true.

They are free. They are happy. Most importantly, they are in love.


	63. Worship

_Pairing the Character, RegulusPeter_

 _Word Count: 125_

* * *

Regulus watches as Peter sleeps. The older wizard is always so restless during the day, so nervous. He's always looking over his shoulder, as though his so-called friends might discover his secret. This is the only time he ever looks at peace, and Regulus loves it.

So many people look at him and see little more than a coward, some pathetic, unfortunate creature. But Regulus sees more. There's something beautiful about the way he survives against all odds. He's desperate for even the smallest scraps of attention, and he worships Regulus like a god every night, always whispering his hymns of _more, please, more_ in the younger man's ear.

"Goodnight," Regulus whispers before pressing a kiss to the other man's forehead. "Goodnight, my beautiful coward."


	64. Sacrifice

_Insane House Competition: HannahSusan_

 _365 Prompts: "All we have is each other."_

 _Book Club, Mary: care, sacrifice, escaping_

 _Showtime, "So Big/So Small": flashback_

 _Bath Bomb Appreciation, Cherrybomb: Write about a redhead_

 _Word Count: 359_

* * *

Hannah stands, watching as they lower the coffin into the ground. Though it is a warm May afternoon, the blonde feels as though her insides have turned to ice.

It isn't fair; this isn't how it was supposed to be.

 _Susan leans in closer, resting her head on Hannah's shoulder. Her slender fingers tickle over Hannah's arm._

 _For a moment, she can almost forget that everything is falling apart. The Death Eaters don't have control of Hogwarts; they aren't getting news every week that friends and family members have disappeared or been murdered. The world seems to disappear as Hannah brushes her fingers lovingly through Susan's bright red waves._

" _Everything is going to be okay," Hannah whispers. If she says it enough, maybe she'll believe it._

 _Susan leans up, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of Hannah's mouth. A small smile is on her lips, and Hannah can't help but return it. "Of course it's going to be okay," Susan says softly as she reads her head on Hannah's shoulder again. "I have you."_

They had taken care of each other. It had never mattered how afraid Hannah was. The world had been easier with her girlfriend by her side.

"Let us take a moment," Susan's father says, holding his wife close, "to remember our Susan. Our hero."

" _Hannah, go!" Susan screams. "I'll hold them off!"_

 _All around them, the castle is in chaos. The Death Eaters are closing in on them, and it's only a matter of time before they catch up._

" _I'm not leaving you," Hannah says firmly._

 _Susan holds her close for just a moment, kissing her fiercely. "Go," she says again._

 _In the distance, someone screams in pain. Hannah is not much of a fighter; she can hold her own in battle, but her talent lies in healing. The Bones family produces warriors, and she tells herself Susan will be okay._

" _I love you."_

 _Susan smiles. "I love you too."_

It had only been much later, after Hannah had escaped, that she learned Susan knew she was outnumbered. She had sacrificed herself so that Hannah could live.

"My hero," Hannah whispers, blinking back tears.


	65. Pancakes and Proposals

_Tea Challenge, English Breakfast: Write something set at breakfast_

 _Insane House Competition: eating_

 _365 Prompts: romance_

 _Showtime, "Disappear": "You still matter."_

 _Days of the Month, Z Day: Write about someone whose name or surname starts with a Z_

 _Stickers Challenge: Sugar Quill: Write about someone with a sweet tooth_

 _Character Appreciation: "Obviously"_

 _Word Count: 527_

* * *

Blaise glances up when Daphne comes into the kitchen. She pauses in the doorway, sniffing the air, a broad smile on her full lips. "Cooking breakfast?" she asks, brows raised curiously.

"Obviously," he laughs, flicking his wand. The pancakes turn feebly. He still hasn't quite mastered cooking spells, but he's getting there.

His girlfriend moves closer. "It's not my birthday," she says.

"It's not," he confirms, casting a quick spell to send the final pancake to the top of the large stack on the table.

"Are you taking my place?" she teases. "Guess I don't matter anymore."

"You still matter," he assures her. "Can't a bloke do something nice for the woman he loves?"

Daphne studies him, her forest green eyes narrowed. She folds her arms over chest before saying, "Not you. You're always up to something." She takes a seat at the table, gesturing at the canister of whipped cream and bottle of chocolate syrup. "You're feeding my sweet tooth. What did you do?"

Blaise rolls his eyes and joins her at the table. Surprising Daphne is never an easy task. She's so clever that he sometimes wonders if the Sorting Hat had considered putting her in Ravenclaw. With a brilliant mind like hers, she would have fit right in.

"Eat your breakfast, Daph."

She doesn't take her eyes off him. Even as she sprays her pancakes with a mountain of whipped cream and drizzles them with enough chocolate syrup to saturate them, her gaze never shifts. Blaise wonders what she expects him to do and why she can't just trust him. If he's honest, it almost ruins the mood.

He tops his own pancakes with butter and decides that is enough. Unlike Daphne, he's always preferred to steer clear of sweets. Honestly, he wouldn't have even made pancakes if not for her.

"Well?"

He snorts and mutters, "Stubborn woman." under his breath, careful to keep his voice low enough that Daphne can't hear him. Louder, he says, "Patience is a virtue."

"And I'm hardly virtuous."

She lets the subject drop and doesn't press him further. Blaise is grateful for the silence. It gives him enough time to clear his head and go over his plan for the hundredth time. He wants this to be perfect. It isn't the way he would like to do it, but Daphne has always preferred low-key and subtle to extravagant.

"Hey, Daph?"

He gets up and closes the distance between them, dropping down on one knee. The silver band trembles in his shaking hands, but he takes a deep breath, and his nerves seem to fade away. It's Daphne, he reminds himself. It's the girl he's been in love with for ten years, his best friend, and his better half. There's no need for fear.

"There's no one in this world I would rather spend my mornings eating pancakes with." It's hardly traditional. His mother would probably have a stroke if she heard him, but Astoria had insisted it was the best opener. "Will you marry me?"

Daphne accepts the wring, a bright smile on her beautiful face. "With a proposal as sweet as that? How can I say no?"


	66. Treats

_Insane House Competition: JohnAmelia_

 _365 Prompts: No more than two characters_

 _Stickers, Pumpkin Pasty: Write a fic set around Halloween_

 _Word Count: 420_

* * *

"Trick or treat."

Amelia doesn't even bother to look up when she hears John's voice. A faint smile tugs at her lips, but she doesn't turn her attention away from the mountain of paperwork. "Aren't you a bit old for that, John?" she asks with a soft chuckle.

"That depends. What sort of treat do you have for me, Milly?"

Amelia feels a slight shiver at his teasing words. She forces herself to remain professional. An office place romance can work, but balancing business and pleasure is the key. For the most part, she does well at being his boss while at the Ministry and his lover when the workday is over. Sometimes, like now, it's hard. His voice causes her heart to flutter, and she wants nothing more than to pull him in, lock the door to her office, and hold him close.

"Amelia," she corrects with a small smile. "Or Madam Bones."

John snorts. "You're no fun, Milly."

"I'm plenty fun," she assures him.

"Really? Then where's my treat?" He closes the door behind him and steps closer, resting his hands upon her desk and leaning in. A mischievous grin plays at his lips. "It's Halloween, after all."

The older woman groans and leans back in her chair, studying him with intense eyes. Really, it isn't fair. She's supposed to the head of her department, the ultimate authority on this floor. Why is it that one man makes her completely unravel?

"Come over tonight," she says at last. "You aren't even in costume, so it's hardly Halloween-ish."

John grins triumphantly. He leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek before turning away and starting for the door. "All treats," he says. "No treats."

Amelia stares after him even after the door closes between them. A smile on her lips, she returns her attention to her paperwork, more eager to finish it now.

…

"Trick or treat!" John says when she opens the door.

"How about a treat?" Amelia asks, stepping back and letting him in. "Still no costume?"

"I'm a grown man, Milly. Can you imagine how ridiculous I would look in a costume?"

"That's exactly what I was hoping for," she admits, nodding towards the camera. "Blackmail."

John shakes his head before wrapping his arms around her. "You're cruel, Milly," he teases, trailing kisses down her jaw before finally planting a long, slow, sensual one on her lips. "Now, where's my treat?"

Amelia presses herself against him until only their clothes separate their bodies. "Right here."


	67. Our Secrets

_Insane House Competition: OliverPercy_

 _365: "Do you ever think we should stop doing this?"_

 _Stickers Challenge, barrels: Write about a secret_

 _Word Count: 351_

* * *

If he's honest, Percy both loves and hates these moments with Oliver.

There's something about the other boy that brings him peace. The way Oliver's calloused fingers brush gently over Percy's bare chest causes his stomach to erupt in a flurry of a thousand butterflies. His soft lips against Percy's neck sends shivers down his spine. It's the first time anyone has ever made him feel so wanted.

But it feels so wrong. They can only love each other in the dark, when prying eyes cannot find them. They have to be careful with this secret. Most people won't care, of course, but now that Oliver is a famous Quidditch player, secrets keep his reputation safe. As long as they're quiet and hidden, no newspaper will flood the world with scandalous headlines.

"Do you ever think we should stop doing this?" Percy murmurs, his fingers brushing through Oliver's fair hair.

"Why?"

A million reasons rush through Percy's mind, but the words seem to stick in his throat. He opens his mouth, but his voice fails him.

Oliver pulls away, his lips drawn into a thin line. "Perce?" His fingers graze the redhead's freckled cheek. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I love you."

Oliver's brows raise. "Not the answer I expected, but I love you too."

His words do not calm the storm that wages on in Percy's head and heart. Love should be enough. He's spent so long trying to cling to it, trying to pretend that it can get them through anything. Now, he isn't so sure.

His mouth suddenly feels dry. Percy swallows repeatedly, his heart fluttering. "But I can only love you in secret." His voice is soft, trembling. "And it hurts."

Oliver's expression softens, and he pulls Percy close. The moment his lips brush Percy's neck, Percy feels the world melt away. "We don't have to hide," Oliver tells him. "If you're ready, we can show the world."

"What about the newspaper?"

Oliver tucks his fingers under Percy's chin, forcing Percy to meet his gaze. "Let them talk. It doesn't matter, as long as I have you."


	68. Good Enough

_Stickers Challenge, Privet Drive: Write about a Muggle_

 _Insane House Competition: 300 words_

 _365 Prompts Challenge: No dialogue_

 _Word Count: 300_

* * *

Bob worries that he isn't good enough for her. It doesn't matter how many times Iola assures him that she's happy, that she loves him; his mind refuses to believe it.

She's the sort of beautiful that men like him are only supposed to dream of. Raven hair, storm cloud eyes, rose petal lips. She deserves to be on the arm of some wealthy man, not a humble farmer.

And now the truth is out. She's a witch. His mind still has trouble accepting it, no matter how much he thinks about it. Still, he knows it's true. She's offered him more than enough proof. Maybe it explains some things, but not the burning question that plagues him.

Why is she with him? How could she possibly leave behind this fantastic world of magic and wonder to stay by his side? There is nothing special about him.

Whenever he tells her this, she silences his doubts with a kiss. Maybe it doesn't stop the worries, but it brings him peace, if only for a moment.

He doesn't understand. Maybe he never will.

Her family has turned their backs on her, and it's all his fault. When he tries to apologize for this, though, she kisses him hard. She tells him it's okay, that he is her family now.

She chooses him again and again, as though he's the greatest thing that could ever happen to her.

And maybe he will never know what's going on inside her head. Maybe he'll always wonder why she's chosen him. Maybe his days will always be spent trying to solve this mystery.

But it doesn't matter, he realizes. She is his, and he is hers. Their hearts are entwined, and nothing can ever change that. The rest of it doesn't have to make sense.


	69. The Riddle

_Sticker Challenge, sphinx: Write about a riddle_

 _Insane House Competition: bed_

 _365 Prompts Challenge: amber_

 _Word Count: 372_

* * *

"I have a riddle for you," Anthony says.

Padma groans and rolls over in bed to look at her boyfriend, propping up on her elbow. It isn't that she doesn't like Anthony's little puzzles. They're always fun and give her something to think about. At midnight, however, when all she wants to do is sleep, she'd rather just let her mind relax. Still, she can never resist him, so she shrugs. "Okay. I'll bite."

Anthony grins at that. His amber eyes glimmer with excitement. "What is invisible and makes people suffer from symptoms like sweating and nausea, but we can't live without it?"

"Sounds like a disease."

Her boyfriend snorts and ruffles her dark hair affectionately. "Some might argue that it is."

Padma considers for a moment. She can think of plenty of illnesses with those symptoms, but nothing fits the second half. How is it possible to be unable to live without something that makes a person sick? "Air?"

"Nope."

"Okay… Back to my disease theory. Is there a cure?"

Anthony chuckles and lays back, sinking into the pillows. His copper curls form a halo around his head, and Padma shivers. It isn't fair that he expects her to figure this out when he's such a distraction.

"It can be cured, but it's never pretty," he confirms.

Padma purses her lips, pondering. She hates it when he finds a way to stump her. She's always taken pride in being able to figure out even his most complex riddles. Now, she's at a loss. "I give up."

Anthony's lips quirk into a soft smile that's only slightly smug. "Really? You give up? It hasn't even been five minutes, Padma."

"Yeah, yeah. You heard me. I give up," she says grudgingly. "What is it?"

Her boyfriend sits up again, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "Love," he murmurs, his lips tickling her neck. "The answer is love."

Padma pulls away, giggling. "That is so cheesy!"

"But good."

"Nope. Just cheesy," she laughs.

And with that, she pulls the blanket over them, curling up beside Anthony with her head on his chest and a smile on her lips. It really _was_ a good one, but she'll never admit it to him.


	70. Preparation

_Bath Bomb Appreciation, Love Nest: Write about a mother "nesting" in preparation of a new baby_

 _Buttons: "You're doing it wrong.", radio_

 _Insane House Competition: Scorose_

 _365 Prompts Challenge: "I want pancakes. Get to it."_

 _Sticker Challenge, Sapphire: wisdom_

 _Word Count: 590_

* * *

Rose knows that Scorpius is trying to help. His intentions are good, and she just smile and let him do his thing. Unfortunately, she can't. "You're doing it wrong," she says.

Scorpius looks up from the pile of baby clothes he's been steadily folding. "I'm… What? There isn't a wrong way to fold clothes."

"There is," Rose assures him.

At least, she thinks there is. Maybe not. All she knows is that as her due date draws closer, she feels an unshakable urge to clean and prepare the nursery and make sure everything is perfect. Her mother calls it nesting, but Rose hates the term. She isn't a bloody bird.

"Care to share some wisdom, then?" her husband asks, awkwardly tossing the yellow onesie from hand to hand as though he suddenly doesn't know what to do with it. "I want to help."

"I want pancakes," she says, rubbing her swollen, pregnant belly. "Get to it, and leave the nursery to me."

Scorpius looks like he wants to argue, but he simply shrugs. "Fine. But if you need help…"

"I don't," she assures him.

He pecks her cheek gently before heading out. A moment later, she hears the cabinet doors open down the hall, and she grins. Maybe he can't help her in the nursery, but he can make her day a little brighter elsewhere.

Rose turns her attention back to the nursery. To the untrained eye, it probably looks perfect. Rose, however, can see a million things that need to be done before the month is over and baby Brutus is born.

Her fingers move over the radio, and she ponders. Should it be there? Brutus won't be able to do anything with it, but she's heard that music is good for a baby's development.

A groan escapes her lips. There are so many things to do, so many decisions to make, and she feels like she's in over her head.

She decides to leave the radio for now. There's plenty of time to change her mind, and there are more pressing matters to tend to. She arranges the small collection of stuffed animals for the hundredth time that week. The arrangement still looks off, and it's becoming more frustrating. Everything has to be perfect for her perfect boy.

Rose easily loses track of time as she fusses with every little thing. The blanket in the cot isn't positioned just right. Everyday clothes should be separate from clothes to be worn for special occasions. There's just a bit too much dust on the bookshelf.

She barely even notices the soft footsteps. "Rosie? Pancakes are ready," Scorpius announces.

Rose has lost her excitement over her favorite sweet treat. Now, she's so overwhelmed, and it feels like she isn't any closer to having the nursery ready.

Her husband rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Come on. They're getting cold."

She shakes her head. "How can I eat when there's so much to do?" she asks, a slight whine in her voice.

Scorpius chuckles and wraps an arm around her, holding her closer. "We'll figure it out," he says, kissing her cheek. "Emphasis on _we._ "

A small, almost smile tugs at her lips. She's been so stubborn lately. Well, more stubborn than usual. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to let Scorpius help.

"I'll even let you call the shots," he adds with another soft kiss. "Deal?"

Rose wraps her arms around him, her smile broadening to a grin. "Deal. Pancakes now, work later."

"Now that is a philosophy I can believe in."


	71. The Outsiders

_Insane House Competition: elixir_

 _Love In Motion: ChoLuna_

 _Liza's Loves: (title) The Outsiders_

 _Word Count: 488_

* * *

"It's okay, you know."

Cho jumps at the voice, quickly wiping her tears away. She may be an emotional wreck, but that doesn't mean she enjoys it when people actually see her break down. When she turns, she relaxes slightly. It's just Luna. "What are you on about?" she asks, trying to keep her voice as sharp as possible.

"Losing someone hurts. But it's okay," the younger girl says. "They don't really leave you. And I know Cedric wouldn't want you to be sad."

Cho wants to tell her to bugger off and mind her own business. Instead, a strangled sob escapes her lips, and fresh tears streak her face. When Luna takes her hand, Cho doesn't shy away from her touch. There's something beautiful about finally having someone who doesn't tell her to get over it.

"Thank you," Cho whispers.

…

She doesn't plan to become friends with Luna. Maybe life is just funny like that. Plans mean nothing, and things just happen. Somehow, Cho doesn't mind.

Luna is there for her when everyone else spends their days walking on eggshells around her, acting as though Cho might explode at any moment. Luna always offers her that dreamy smile and only the kindest of words.

There is no remedy to grief. Cho is well aware of this. Potions can numb the mind and offer distractions, but nothing really takes the pain away. Still, Luna's presence is like a calming elixir, and there's something about her that makes the world feel just a bit brighter.

…

Cho doesn't know when it happens exactly. Her feelings slowly shift, and, one day, Luna causes her heart to flutter. Only one other person has ever had this effect on her. It only feels like a betrayal to Cedric.

But Luna is right. Cedric had loved her, and he wouldn't want Cho to go through the rest of her days lonely and miserable.

He would understand. Maybe he would even be happy for her.

Cho can only hope.

…

Luna doesn't pull away when Cho kisses her. It's a soft kiss, gentle but saturated with a silent plea.

 _Please don't leave me. Please let this be enough. I need you._

When they break apart, Luna's eyes are wide and confused, but a small smile plays at her lips. "That was rather nice," she says quietly. "Why did you kiss me?"

"Because I feel something for you," Cho answers. "Something only Cedric has ever made me feel."

Luna nods and takes Cho by the hand, still smiling that dreamy smile. "Thank you," she whispers. "It makes me feel less alone."

Cho has never thought about it until now. She's felt so isolated, but of course Luna would feel the same. In the eyes of the rest of the school, they are strange; they are to be avoided at all costs.

"We don't have to be alone anymore," Cho says before kissing Luna again.


	72. Bump in the Road

_Pairing the Character: LavenderParvati_

 _Stickers Challenge, snake: Write about fertility_

 _Insane House Competition: (restriction) only Gryffindors_

 _TV Show of the Month, Molly: lipstick, sweet, "You look sad when you think he can't see you."_

 _Word Count: 369_

* * *

Lavender presses a kiss to her girlfriend's cheek. A soft pink smudge from her lipstick stains Parvati's tan skin. "What's bothering you?"

Parvati smiles. To anyone else, it would like genuine. Lavender, however, can see exactly how strained that quirk of her lips is. "I'm fine. "

"You look sad when you think I can't see you," Lavender says gently, brushing her fingers through Parvati's hair. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

For several seconds, there is only silence between them, and Lavender worries that she's pushed too hard. Parvati sighs and pulls away, pressing her face against her palms. "I went to the mediwitch for my appointment."

Lavender raises her brows, confused. It should be good news. They've been making plans to find a donor so they can finally settle down and start a family. Parvati has been taking potions and trying every home remedy under the sun to make sure her body is ready.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Parvati lowers her hands. Her dark eyes are dewy, as though it's only a matter of time before the tears will fall. "It's all for nothing," she says, her words quiet and trembling. "I can't get pregnant."

Lavender understands her girlfriend's distress now. Her heart feels as though it's breaking within hee chest, and she pulls Parvati closer, wrapping her arms around her. They've spent the past year planning and preparing. It seems unfair that things should fall apart when they should be so close.

"It's okay, darling," Lavender whispers. "It's just a little bump in the road. It isn't the end of the world."

Parvati sniffles, pulling away and wiping the tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry I'm broken."

"No. Don't think that for a second," Lavender says, moving closer but keeping a comfortable distance so as to not another Parvati. "You're perfect."

"Why are you so sweet?" Parvati asks with a soft chuckle.

"Because I have an amazing girlfriend who only deserves the best."

Parvati's lips quirk into an almost smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. This moment hasn't taken away her pain. They still have challenges they'll have to overcome. But all that matters now is that they have each other, and they'll find a way through this.


	73. The Wicked and the Divine

_Sticker Challenge, dungeons: dungeons_

 _Insane House Competition: Slytherin common room_

 _Liza's Loves: (title) The Wicked and the Divine_

 _For the lovely anon who asked for something Drastoria. I hope you enjoy!_

 _Word Count: 575_

* * *

The war is over. The words echo in his head as he makes his way through the ruined castle. No one spares spares him a second glance, and he is grateful. After everything they've been through, he doesn't need more fighting.

He doesn't even think about where he's going. His feet carry him along until he's in the dungeons. Draco lingers outside the common room entrance before giving the password in a grudging sigh.

He doesn't expect anyone to be in the common room, and he's surprised to find Astoria sitting on the sofa. Her eyes are closed, but her body is too tense for him to believe that she's Draco steps closer, he can see cuts and bruises over her face, illuminated by the dim light of the fireplace.

"I thought all Slytherins were evacuated."

Astoria opens her eyes, wincing slightly. She stretches before shaking her head, her dark hair whipping against her face. "Some of us stayed," she answers.

There's almost an accusation in her voice. By now, everyone knows the truth about him. He had been a coward, blindly clinging to anyone who could keep him alive. Astoria, like her older sister, had been a saint. Over the past year, he's done everything in his limited power to steer the Carrows away from the Greengrass sisters. Maybe it's paid off.

"Should you go to the hospital wing?" he asks. "That's a terrible cut on your cheek."

Astoria reaches up and presses her fingertips carefully to her cheek. With a wince, she hisses as her fingers make contact with the swollen skin. "I'll be fine," she decides. "I don't want to be around people right now anyway."

"I'll just go then."

The younger girl snorts. "You aren't people," she says. "I like you. Come sit."

Draco finds himself obeying. He had wanted to get away, to avoid the whispers and stares the corridors would hold. Now, he finds himself drawn to her.

"You made a right mess of things," Astoria notes.

Her words make him flinch. No one has managed to make him feel completely ashamed of himself. Maybe he regrets it all, but he'd done what he'd had to do. But sitting with Astoria makes him feel like a failure. In the face of adversity, she had shown the world nothing but kindness and a good heart. Compared to her, Draco is scum.

"But it's okay," she continues, resting a hand on his thigh. Her touch is strangely comforting. "We all lose our way sometimes. The trick is to not let it get to you and to never give up. If you lose your way, I'll help."

His eyes find hers, and he feels something stirring inside him. His stomach feels as though someone has unleashed a hundred butterflies, and their wings are tickling his insides.

"Thank you," he whispers.

Astoria leans in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Maybe I'll give you a proper kiss once I've been healed up," she chuckles.

He raises a brow, a grin on his lips. "Maybe I'll be waiting for it," he says. "Not that I'm the type to just wait around for people."

And as they laugh, he feels his lips forming his first genuine smile in years. The aftermath of the warm seem to melt away. There is no one and nothing in this world but him and Astoria Greengrass, and he finally thinks the future might be okay after all.


	74. Lucky

_Love In Motion: TeddyLouis_

 _Book Club, Tom: Hufflepuff, moonlight, nighttime_

 _Buttons: Louis Weasley_

 _Showtime, "Dear Old Shiz": Hogwarts_

 _Word Count: 343_

* * *

"You know, as a prefect, I ought to take points away since you're out of bed."

Louis turns, blushing. He only relaxes when he sees that it's Teddy. "I can't sleep," he says with a shrug. "I wanted to take a little stroll."

The Hufflepuff chuckles. "You're lucky I'm your boyfriend," he says gently, wrapping an arm around Louis. "What's got you up this late?"

Louis turns his attention to the window, watching the dark clouds drift across the moon. He offers another shrug. He doesn't know how to put his thoughts into words. Anxiety has been plaguing his mind lately, but he can't quite put his finger on what's causing it.

Teddy doesn't press him for more information, and Louis is grateful. It's one thing he's always admired about his boyfriend. Teddy is kind and just accepts things as they are. It's comforting, really. His family always likes to get involved and ask far too many questions. Teddy, on the other hand, just lets Louis be.

"Tell you what. You can walk with me. I'm just finishing up my patrol," Teddy offers.

Louis snuggles against him, smiling. "Thank you."

They walk in silence. Louis finds it strange how comfortable the silence is. With others, it feels so tense and awkward. But with Teddy, it's so natural, and he doesn't feel the urge to fill the empty spaces with small talk.

"You're right, you know," Louis says at last, breaking the silence only when they approach the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room.

Teddy chuckles. "I usually am. But you're going to have to be more specific, Louis."

Louis grins and turns his head. He pushes his glasses up on his nose before standing on the tips of his toes and pressing a kiss to Teddy's lips. "I really am lucky you're my boyfriend."

Teddy ruffles his strawberry blond curls. "Not as lucky as I am, I assure you."

And, feeling as though a weight has been lifted from his shoulders, Louis follows him into the common room, unable to fight a smile.


	75. No Joke

_Character Appreciation: A man with red hair_

 _Count Your Buttons: Fred Weasley_

 _Love in Motion: OliverFred_

 _Word Count: 405_

* * *

As Oliver crosses the pitch and makes his way toward the change rooms, he realizes this may be a horrible idea. Following the instructions on an anonymous love letter might seem like a romantic adventure, but he's painfully aware of everything that could go wrong. Best case scenario, no one will be there, and whoever sent it will have a good laugh knowing that Oliver Wood is a bloody idiot. Worst case, a group of Slytherins will be waiting there under Flint's orders, ready to put him in the hospital wing before tomorrow's big match.

But he can't turn back now. Curiosity gets the best of him. He doesn't know who will be waiting for him in there, or even who he wants to be there, but he has to know.

He throws open the door, and a scowl tugs at his lips. Fred Weasley sits on the bench, a bright grin on his freckled face. "Ah! Brilliant. You got my letter," he says, jumping to his feet when he sees the older boy.

"Funny," Oliver says sharply. "Really funny. Where's George?" He expects the other twin to pop out from around the corner, but the change room seems to be completely empty.

Fred lifts his brows. "Why would George be here? We share a lot of things, but I draw the line at partners."

Oliver feels his cheeks burn. This feels like one giant joke, but Fred appears to be unusually serious. His smile is genuine, not the stupid grin we wears whenever he and George do something ridiculous. "You're… You mean, you sent this… because you meant it?" he asks.

Fred closes the distance between them. "That's correct. Look at you. You've got some brains to go with that pretty face, Wood," he teases.

He feels like the world is spinning. This isn't what he had expected, and yet, he realizes that he doesn't mind it. Fred isn't the sort of person he would usually go for, but he would be lying if he said he hasn't found himself staring from time to time.

"Well?" Fred presses. "Thoughts? Protests? Praises?"

"I think… I think I wouldn't mind giving it a try."

Fred grins. "And at least you know you'll always be known as the attractive one, and I'll just be the funny one."

"You're attractive too."

The younger boy's grin changes to a smirk. "I know. Just wanted to hear you say it."


	76. Perfection

_Love In Motion: JamesLily_

 _Character Appreciation: devoted husband_

 _Days, White Shirt Day: Write a fic featuring two or more Order members_

 _Liza's Loves, Red Stag: James Potter_

 _Insane House Competition: sleeping in_

 _Serpent Day, emerald tree boa_

 _Word Count: 387_

* * *

Lily groans when she opens her eyes, all too aware of how bright the bedroom is. She sits up, her sleepiness melting away in less than a second. The clock on the bedside table that it is, in fact, no longer morning. She pushes a hand through her tangled red hair and quickly jumps to her feet, dressing.

She has to give Harry his bottle, fix something for James to eat, and there are too many little household chores to even think about. Making a mental list of everything, she makes her way to the kitchen and stops, head tipped to the side in confusion.

The kitchen is spotless. The only thing that's out is a single plate, piled with neatly cut sandwiches and crisps. Lily blinks rapidly before rubbing her eyes. No, she isn't dreaming. She's woken up to a clean kitchen with a small lunch prepared for her. She nabs a sandwich slice and walks through the house. Each room proves to be just as tidy as the last.

"James?"

"In Harry's room, love."

She follows the sound of his voice and finds her husband in a rocking chair. Their son sits on his lap, giggling happily as James read to him. Lily leans against the door frame, smiling to herself.

"You let me sleep in?" she asks.

"You were up all night with Harry," he answers. "I thought you might appreciate the extra rest."

A smile tugs at her lips. James may have his faults, but he's come a long way since his days of being an arrogant toerag. He's a good man, a wonderful father, and the greatest husband.

"What are you grinning about?" James asks.

"How lucky I am."

And she is. The war has plunged the world into chaos. Some days are so dark that she wonders why she's still fighting. But then there are moment like this where she has her husband and son, and she knows that there's still good in the world.

James climbs carefully to his feet, resting Harry on his hip. He crosses the room and wraps an arm around her, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "Funny," he says. "I was just thinking of how lucky I am too."

Lily snuggles against her husband, resting her head on his chest. "Great minds think alike."


	77. Comma After Dearest

_I Dare You: Andromeda Tonks, setting something on fire_

 _Love in Motion: RabastanAndromeda_

 _Word Count: 446_

* * *

 _My Dearest, Andromeda,_

 _I saw you last night at my parents' ball. You looked quite exquisite in green. It really brings out your eyes._

 _I never noticed how beautiful you are until that moment. School starts back soon. Would you accompany me to Hogsmeade one weekend?_

 _Yours,_

 _Rabastan_

* * *

 _My Dearest, Andromeda,_

 _Rodolphus keeps laughing at me. He says I'm a lovesick fool. Maybe he's right. I know we haven't been together, but I love you. I never thought I could love someone. In our families, love isn't really a reality, is it?_

 _I love you. And I'm not afraid to say it._

 _Yours,_

 _Rabastan_

* * *

 _My Dearest, Andromeda,_

 _I'm scared. I hate admitting that. I'm not a Gryffindor, but fuck! I want to be brave._

 _This war… Rodolphus has already joined the Dark Lord. Our parents are so proud, and they keep looking at me like I'm supposed to follow in his footsteps._

 _The scariest part is that I want to. I want to make them proud. I want to do something with my life._

 _Yours,_

 _Rabastan_

* * *

 _My Dearest, Andromeda,_

 _I'm sorry. You won't even talk to me now. Please just talk to me._

 _I did what I had to do._

 _Yours,_

 _Rabastan._

* * *

 _My Dearest, Andromeda,_

 _I love you. I thought that would be enough. Why can't you see that this is the right thing? The war is getting worse, and I'm on the winning side. Join me so I can keep you safe._

 _Yours,_

 _Rabastan_

* * *

 _My Dearest, Andromeda,_

 _How many times do I have to apologize?_

 _Yours,_

 _Rabastan_

* * *

 _My Dearest, Andromeda,_

 _Talk to me. I need you to talk to me. I love you. Please._

 _Yours,_

 _Rabastan_

* * *

 _Andi,_

 _I get it. Fine. I wish you well._

 _But don't forget I gave you a chance. I love you, and I wanted to keep you safe. You've made your decision, and I hope you'll be able to live with the consequences._

 _Yours, Rabastan_

* * *

Andromeda feels a pressure in the back of her eyes as she tosses the final letter into the fireplace, watching the flames consume it and turn it to ash.

She still loves Rabastan; nothing will ever change that. She tried to reach out, tried to save him, but he doesn't want to be saved.

Wiping the tears away, she steps back, but she can still feel the heat of the fire. It feels like a betrayal, throwing the letters into the fire, but she feels stronger for it. She has a life now, and she cannot let her feelings for a boy who will never come back to her get in the way.

She curses the war. It really has taken everything away from her.


	78. We Have Each Other

_Love In Motion, triad: HannahSusanZacharias_

 _Note: Established relationship_

 _Word Count: 329_

* * *

"What's happened?" Hannah asks, her heart sinking as Zacharias carries Susan in. She looks so pitiful draped over his shoulder, and, for one terrifying moment, Hannah is afraid that she isn't breathing.

"Carrows," Zacharias answers, the word a growl. "She's… There's nothing physical. Cruciatus Curse."

He sets Susan down on the couch, and Hannah kneels beside her. "Susan? Hey, Susan?"

Susan opens her eyes with a groan. A weak smile pulls at her lips. "Hey." Her eyes shift to Zacharias. "Thank you."

He snorts. "Pretty sure you don't have to thank your boyfriend for wanting to protect you, Susan."

Hannah smiles at that. Adding Zacharias to her relationship with Susan had seemed like a terrible idea at first. She's all too aware that he's abrasive; sometimes, she thinks the Sorting Hat meant to send him to Slytherin. In the end, though, she's seen that he does have a heart of gold, even if he doesn't always know how to show it. He would do anything for them.

She tugs his hand until he leans down. "I love you," she whispers before kissing him. She presses a kiss to Susan's knuckles. "And I love you too. We're going to get through this."

Hannah doesn't always believe it. Hogwarts has become a twisted nightmare. The safety she's always felt here has been taken away from her.

But on the darkest days, she has Susan and Zacharias. They tell her she's the hope that keeps them going, but they don't realize that they're the ones that keep her afloat. Some days, she wants to just let go and give up, but they're there, and it makes her think they'll be okay somehow.

Susan sits up, still trembling from the aftermath of the curse. She reaches out, and Hannah and Zacharias lean in, hugging her.

The world is dark, and things are going to hell, but they'll figure things out. They have one another, and that's all they need to make it through.


	79. Getting There

_Femslash February: MinervaPoppy_

 _Love in Motion: MinervaPoppy_

 _Insane House Competition: chocolate_

 _Serpent Day: Eastern tiger snake: vanish_

 _Character Appreciation: reliable_

 _Word Count: 382_

* * *

Minerva wakes with anger in her heart. She doesn't have to look around to know that she's in the hospital wing. The memory of Joseph Lestrange smirking as he sent a Bludger straight at her is still fresh in her mind. She can still feel the bones shattering upon impact, can still see her grip on the broomstick slipping.

"I'll murder him," the Chaser groans.

"Murder is probably not good for your blood pressure."

Minerva almost smiles. She isn't surprised to find Poppy by her side either. Her girlfriend is so reliable. In the two years that they've been dating, Poppy is always there when she needs her most.

"How many bones did I break?" she asks. "I'd like to break the same ones in his body."

Poppy rolls her eyes and climbs to her feet, making her way over to the hospital bed pressing a kiss to Minerva's cheek. "Typical angry Gryffindor," she teases.

"Typical kind and forgiving Hufflepuff," Minerva counters with a grin. "You didn't answer my question."

"Because I don't want you to break anyone's bones," Poppy says. Her hand vanishes from sight for a moment, and she pulls out a bar of chocolate. "I brought you something."

Minerva accepts it and peels the wrapper away. She nibbles the chocolate, enjoying the sweetness. It isn't enough to distract her, of course. Her mind is still set on vengeance. Perhaps it isn't a proper thought for a prefect, but she doesn't care.

"You're still angry," Poppy sighs.

"You would be too if you were in my position."

Except she knows it isn't true. Poppy has always been too kind for her own good. Maybe that's why Minerva loves her so much. Poppy is so easy to talk to, and even easier to love.

The Hufflepuff leans in, kissing Minerva gently. It's amazing how that tender kiss works a magic that no spell or potion ever could. The tension in her body slowly melts away, and Minerva manages a genuine smile. She still wants to slaughter the entire Slytherin Quidditch team, but she can forget about it for a moment. Poppy keeps her calm, and she can pretend that the world is bright and beautiful.

"Better?" Poppy murmurs.

Minerva wraps her arms around the other girl, holding her closer. "Getting there."


	80. Begin Again

_Quilting: OliverPercy_

 _Character Appreciation: glasses_

 _Book Club, Ria: athletic, sporting event, awkward_

 _Buttons: Oliver Wood_

 _Lyric Alley: We could turn around, or we could give it up._

 _Liza's Loves, Hawk Moth: Write about a start_

 _Jewel Challenge, emerald necklace: Write about a truth or lie told by a lover_

 _Word Count: 458_

* * *

Percy awkwardly adjusts his glasses, taking several deep breaths to calm himself. It fails. He is still a bundle of raw nerves, and his heart continues to pound within his chest. It shouldn't be a big deal. This is hardly the first time he's shown up to a Quidditch match.

But it _is_ the first time he's seen Oliver since that night, months before the final battle. He had been a coward and said things he hasn't meant, and he'd lost Oliver in the end.

Trying not to think about it, he makes his way through the stands and finds a spot just as Puddlemere march onto the pitch. It's easy to spot Oliver, even from here. He walks with a confidence Percy could never manage.

It seems as though he's gotten cuter since their last moment together. Oliver is leaner now and looks more athletic, if that's even possible.

Percy sits down just as the whistle blows and the match starts.

…

"Perce?" Oliver's brows raise. He folds his arms over his chest, and Percy tries not to notice how standoffish he looks. "What are you doing here?"

"Good match," Percy says, offering him a small smile.

Oliver rolls his eyes. "You're avoiding my question."

"I screwed up."

Oliver exhales deeply. His posture relaxes slightly, but not all the way; there is still so much tension in his body. He studies Percy for a moment, his hazel eyes narrowed. "Yes," he says stiffly. "You did."

Percy deserves the anger. He had been blind and desperate to rise above his station at the Ministry. In the end, that had meant hurting Oliver.

"I'm sorry." Percy's voice is barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean what I said. You aren't a mistake. I'm a bloody idiot, and I've been a mess without you."

Oliver's lips quirk for a fraction of a second, almost like he wants to smile, but they quickly draw back into a hard line. "What am I supposed to say, Perce?" he asks. "That it's okay? It's not. You really hurt me."

"I know. And I know it's not okay. But I want to try again. I mean… Even if you decide to give up, at least I tried to make things right," Percy says. "That sounded bad…"

"It did. Bit like you're putting the blame on me," the other man agrees.

Percy shakes his head. "I'm not. It's all my fault," he says. "And if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

For several minutes, Oliver is silent. Finally, he offers Percy a genuine smile. "That's an awfully long time," he says softly. "Better get started."

Percy kisses him, and the world seems a little brighter.


	81. Wanting

_Quilting Appreciation: ScorpiusLily_

 _Word Count: 376_

* * *

They sit by the lake in silence. Normally, Lily doesn't mind the silence, but it feels deafening today. Her demons seem to claw their way through her throat, and it's only a matter of time before those insecurities spill from her lips.

Scorpius shifts beside her, turning to look at her. "What's wrong?" he asks, his thin lips tugging into a frown.

"What makes you think something is wrong?" Lily asks. She tries to fake it, but even she can feel how flimsy her smile is.

"You're tense," Scorpius answers. "And you've got that look on your face like you want to cry."

She supposes she's lucky to have a boyfriend who knows her so well. Sometimes, like now, it's curse. There's no hiding anything from him. Scorpius always seems to know, and he can see right through her.

With a sigh, Lily slumps forward. "Are you sure you don't want to be with Rose?"

A beat of silence passes between them. Her boyfriend rests a hand on her back, gently rubbing. She feels the tension in her body slowly melt away at his touch. "If I wanted to be with Rose, I wouldn't be with you. I don't like wasting people's time." More silence. He kisses her forehead. "What brought this on?"

She almost laughs. How can someone so clever be so oblivious? Everyone thinks he should be with Rose. They're so alike, and who doesn't love a good story of rivals becoming lovers? Sometimes, it feels like he's just settled for Lily. She doesn't want to be the girl with no confidence, but the whole world seems to want her boyfriend to date her cousin. It's hard to believe she's good enough.

When she doesn't answer, Scorpius pulls her closer. His fingers brush through her auburn hair. "I love you," he says quietly. "I don't want anyone else. I want you. Isn't that enough?"

So many doubts and insecurities still race through her mind. Before she can find a way to voice them, his lips are on hers, and he puts her demons to sleep.

"I want you."

And it doesn't matter that everyone thinks he and Rose are meant to be. Scorpius wants Lily, and the rest of the world can piss off.


	82. Steps Toward Normal

_Quilting Appreciation: LeePadma_

 _Word Count: 415_

* * *

Lee is reasonably sure that love can happen anywhere, but a battlefield should not be one of those places. And yet it is.

He's noticed Padma before. Though she tries to blend in with the background, there's something about the Ravenclaw that's always caught his eye.

Now, it's hard not to notice her. The girl who has wrapped herself in silence and hidden behind books is front and center now. Her wand is drawn, and she stands tall and proud. In the midst of battle, she is no longer the quiet girl with curious eyes and a shy smile; she is a goddess of war, and Lee wants nothing more than to worship at her altar.

But not now. There is a war to fight, and he cannot allow his heart to lead him astray. Somehow, Lee keeps his attention focused, and he makes himself a promise.

If he survives this, he will ask her on a date.

A grin tugs at his lips as he dodges a curse. It's just more motivation to stay alive.

…

He finds her in the wreckage that was once the library. Shelves are overturned. Books litter the floor. And Padma stands among it all, looking like she's on the verge of tears.

"We made it," Lee says softly.

Padma turns, a frown on her lips. The fierce goddess is gone, and the shy Ravenclaw with the soft voice has returned. "Not all of us," she says sadly.

Lee winces. He can still see Fred's lifeless eyes and final smile. The war is over, but the casualties are great. "I know," he whispers.

"Do you think there's any hope?" she asks, gesturing at the chaos and destruction that surrounds them. "Will things go back to normal?"

On a normal day, Lee wouldn't hesitate. He's always lived world where the sun shines and all it takes is a smile and joke to chase away the storm clouds. Now, he hesitates. War has changed them all, and he can see the pain and darkness around him.

"One day," he finally answers.

She almost smiles at that. "It doesn't feel like it."

"Baby steps," he says. "Things will fall into place slowly but surely."

Now, Padma does smile, and Lee feels his heart flutter. "Baby steps," she echoes.

He nods. "Like, maybe a date would be a step toward normalcy."

Silence. Her lips purse, and Lee wonders if he's said the wrong thing. Finally, she relaxes and nods. "I like that idea."


	83. Rules

_Quilting Appreciation: HannahSusan_

 _Word Count: 306_

* * *

"Congratulations."

Hannah looks up, a smile on her lips when she sees Susan leaning against her bedpost. They have been dating for a year now, and Susan still makes her stomach erupt with butterflies. She hopes that never stops. "Thank you," she replies. "But… for what?"

Susan grins, chuckling. Hannah likes it when she smiles. Her freckled face scrunches up, and it's the most adorable thing in the world. "For becoming prefect," she answers, sitting beside Hannah. Her fingers graze lightly over Hannah's hand. "I'm proud of you."

Hannah feels warmth stain her cheeks. She reaches out and taps a finger against the prefect badge, unable to resist a smile. Her mother had been a perfect years ago, and now Hannah has followed in her footsteps.

"Bit of a shame though," Susan adds.

The words draw Hannah out of her thoughts. She stares at Susan in confusion, brows raised. Only moments ago, her girlfriend had been proud of her. Why is this suddenly a shame? It makes no sense.

As if she can read her thoughts, Susan grins and leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to Hannah's cheek. "I recall a few nights last year," she murmurs, fingers ghosting down Hannah's arm, "after curfew with you. If you're a perfect, you'll be obligated to give me a detention or something if I try."

Hannah pulls back, laughing softly. "I'd have to give myself a detention," she points out.

Susan's grin broadens. She wraps her arms around Hannah, pulling her close once again. "Are you telling me that you would deliberately break the rules?" she chuckles.

Hannah nods. It's amazing that she means it. She's been raised to believe that rules are rarely meant to be broken. But there's something about Susan that makes it all fade away to where it no longer matters. "Gladly," she confirms


	84. Not Alone

_Quilting Appreciation: SeverusRegulus_

 _Word Count: 501_

* * *

"I'm scared," Regulus admits, his heart racing painfully in his chest. Part of him worries that he might be having a heart attack. Merlin, that would be his luck. He's finally doing something right, and the fates have decided to punish him for it by killing him off at a young age.

He doesn't know what he expects from Severus. Sympathy? A kind word of reassurance? The older wizard offers nothing more than a roll of his eyes. "Perhaps you shouldn't be here," he says.

Regulus feels a burning blush creep into his cheeks. He glares at Severus, silently hating him. Regulus knows he is nothing. Bellatrix is fierce and brutal, and, now that he is joining the Death Eaters, he will be forced to live in her shadow. Still, that's no reason to tell him that he _shouldn't_ be here. He has just as much right to serve the Dark Lord as anyone else does.

His fingers pluck a cigarette from his pack. Regulus tucks it between his lips and lights it, breathing in the calming smoke.

"Horrible habit," Severus says, wrinkling his nose.

Regulus exhales a cloud of smoke. "Addiction," he says simply.

Severus doesn't respond. He waves his hand in front of his face, trying to fan away the wisps of smoke that get too close. Regulus doesn't bother to apologize; he has more important things on his mind.

…

"I messed up," Regulus says, pacing nervous. He fumbles with his pack of cigarettes, but his mind is racing too quickly. Even the blessed rush of nicotine can't calm him now.

He doesn't know why he's bothering to tell Severus. Maybe it's that Severus, despite his abrasive nature, has been there for him since Regulus took the Dark Mark. Maybe it's that Severus' heart doesn't really seem to be in it. Whatever the case, he finds himself spilling his soul to the other man. Every fear, every doubt comes rushing from his lips, and he can't seem to stop it.

"I tried to warn you," Severus says softly. "I told you that you shouldn't be here."

"I thought you were being a jerk."

The older man chuckles softly, offering Regulus a shrug. "And yet you still want through with it. Stubborn bastard."

Regulus wants to smile, but he can't bring himself to do it. He pushes a hand through his dark hair. "What do I do?"

Severus steps closer until he is at Regulus' side. He rests a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever you choose, you don't have to do it alone."

Regulus glances up at him, his heart skipping a beat. He recognizes that tone. His lips quirk into a ghost of a smile. "Thought you fancied Evans…"

Severus doesn't respond. He leans in and presses a quick, chaste kiss to Regulus' cheek. "Just remember you're not alone."

And it doesn't quite ease his mind. He's still lost and terrified, with no idea what to do. But maybe it will be okay. At least he has Severus.


	85. Is This Your Card?

_Quilting Appreciation: LysanderRoxanne_

 _Word Count: 354_

* * *

Roxanne grins brightly as she plucks a card from the stack, holding it outward. "Is this your card?" she asks.

Lysander accepts it, looking from it to Roxanne in disbelief. "I don't get it," he says, showing her the four of diamonds. "That's five in a row. How do you do it?" He carefully returns the card to the middle of the stack.

"A good magician never reveals her secrets," she answers, offering him a wink.

She tries not to laugh when his lips twist into a pout. Most people don't seem to care for her silly Muggle magic tricks. Even her father, who sells the kits at his shop, just offers her a polite laugh whenever she tries to show him the latest trick she's mastered. But Lysander looks at her like she's doing something genuinely incredible, and Roxanne realizes she loves being the center of his attention.

"One more?" he asks.

She shuffles the cards, delighting in the way he smiles at her as the cards pass over one another. A grin tugs at her lips. "If I get this one right," she says, giving the cards one final shuffle, "you owe me a date."

Roxanne Weasley is not a bold person. While she's far from being a wallflower like Molly, she isn't the type to rush headfirst into things and openly express what she wants. Lysander makes her brave.

"Deal," he says, and the smile on his lips makes her think he'd take her on a date even if she's wrong.

She won't be wrong, though. Card tricks are the easier, and she's spent three years mastering this one in particular. "Pick a card, any card," she says, fanning them out.

Lysander takes one and studies it. Roxanne doesn't bother guiding him through the rest of the steps. He's sat through this trick so many times that it's a wonder he hasn't learned how to do it himself. He returns the card to the stack, and she shuffles.

"Is this your card?"

"Queen of hearts," he confirms, accepting it. "Still won't tell me how?"

Roxanne leans in, kissing him gently. "Nope."


	86. Seize the Day

_Quilting Appreciation:_ FredAngelina

 _Days of the Month, Ask a Question Day: Write a what if_

 _Word Count: 375_

* * *

Fred still can't believe it. The war is over, and he is still alive. Of course, he's luckier than most. If Percy hadn't noticed the wall about to explode behind him, if he hadn't pulled Fred out of the way… Well, it would be a much different story. He wouldn't be here to witness the first few moments of life returning to normal.

He almost died.

The realization keeps hitting him in the gut, but it still makes no sense to him. It's a miracle that he's alive. As he walks down the corridor and sees friends and family kneeling beside their fallen loved ones, his heart wrenches. If Percy hadn't pulled him to safety, his parents would be kneeling over his body now, mourning.

Fred shakes his head. Without really thinking about it, he quickens his pace.

"Something wrong, mate?" George asks.

Fred doesn't bother answering. Before the day is over, he'll sit down and tell his twin everything. For now, though, there's a voice in his head whispering that life is too precious to take for granted, reminding him that he needs to do the things he's dreamt of. He's always been ready for the next great adventure, but there are some things that seemed like too great of a risk, even for him.

Not anymore.

He finds Angelina outside the hospital wing, falling asleep against the wall.

"Remember when I asked you to the Yule Ball?"

Angelina startles. She yawns, fixing her gaze upon him. "What are you on about? Of course I remember."

"I told you it's because you're my best friend. I lied. I mean… You _are_ my best friend, other than George," he says, his words melding together until they're almost nonsensical. "But it's more than that, Ang. I fancy you. Always have. Always will. I just… We're alive. I almost died, and I would have died with the regret of knowing I never told you how I feel. Can I take you out?"

The sleep seems to vanish from her eyes; she is wide awake. A smile plays at her lips, and she chuckles. "Took you long enough, Weasley," she says.

"Is that a yes?"

In place of an answer, she pulls him close and kisses him hard.


	87. Liquid Courage

_Assignment 8, Notable Witches and Wizards: Write about an event with an unexpected ending._

 _Love in Motion: DudleyPiers_

 _Word Count: 905_

 _Warnings: some homophobic language_

* * *

He scrapes his jagged, badly chewed fingernail over the mouth of the bottle, biting the inside of his cheek until he tastes the faint, metallic tang of blood.

"Something wrong?" Dudley asks, popping the top off another bottle of beer and letting it clatter noisily to the floor. He fits his thin lips around the brown bottle, and Piers feels suddenly envious of an inanimate object.

Piers doesn't answer. Instead, he presses his own bottle to his lips. "Cheers, mate," he mutters before tilting the bottle back and chugging its contents quickly with the learned skill of a future alcoholic.

He knows he shouldn't drink. While he isn't actually opposed to it and has come to terms with the fact that his life will be spent staring down at the bottom of a bottle, he's all too aware that drinking around Dudley is dangerous. It would be easy to slip up and tell Dudley the truth, and then Piers' life will be over. He'll be another queer-turne- punching bag, another target, another victim.

How many times has Piers stood by Dudley's side, slinging slurs with the same skill that Dudley throws punches? How many boys have his slender hands held down while Dudley's knuckles painted their skin with bruises? Opening his mouth, admitting his feelings, will lead to a world of pain. Piers isn't ready for that; he doesn't think he ever will be.

And yet he's taking that risk with every sip he takes. Alcohol gives him courage, but he thinks it would be wiser to remain a coward where his feelings for Dudley Dursley are concerned.

"You look like you're gonna puke," Dudley notes with a smirk. "Too much, too fast?"

"Nah. Just thinking."

"About?" Dudley asks, raising his brows. He sets his newly empty bottle to the side and pushes a hand through his tidy blond hair, leaving it ruffled.

Piers is painfully aware that he's staring, but it's hard not to. There's always been something about Dudley that he finds attractive. Now that the baby fat has melted away, and his body has more tone and definition from boxing, he is damn near irresistible.

Piers takes another deep drink. The faint burn of the amber liquid eases his restless mind, if only for a moment. The words stick in the back of his throat, threatening to spill from his lips. Another drink, but it doesn't force the words back, and Piers feels like he's choking.

He can't do this. Telling Dudley will ruin everything. He's spent too many years building his reputation. Piers has earned respect—or, at the very least, fear—from the other boys, and he refuses to give that up. Maybe he could survive on his own for a while, but he's just a bit too scrawny, and the blossoms of acne that mar his milky skin will make him an easy target.

"I—" He drains the dregs of his beer and reaches for another. The words no longer feel like they're choking him. They've snaked their way up his throat and seem to rest on the back of his tongue. Piers opens the new bottle, taking a long sip, praying that it will drown his desires. "I love you."

The silence that hangs between them is tense, and Piers takes a step back, trembling. Dudley's brows knit together, his forehead creasing as he seems to lose himself in thought. Piers wonders if he can run, but he doubts it. His legs feel like gelatin, and he doesn't know if it's from fear or from too many beers. Maybe both.

"Like… As friends?" Dudley asks finally, folding his arms over his chest and studying Piers with an unreadable expression.

 _Yes_ , Piers wants to say. It's a lie, but it can keep him safe; it can prevent the inevitable fallout, and Piers can live another day without knowing what it feels like to be on the receiving end of his best friend's outbursts.

"No." He wants to kick himself. "More than that."

He is so fucked, and there's nothing he can do about it.

Dudley takes a step closer, and Piers feels his heart pound painfully in his chest, like it wants to burst from his skin. This is it. His reputation will be destroyed, and he'll get his ass kicked twice—here, then by his father when he gets home, because Polkiss men aren't supposed to lose fights.

Dudley lifts his hand, and Piers thinks he might faint. He can't stop trembling, and his lungs seem to have forgotten how to work. Dudley's hand moves closer, and Piers doesn't understand why the movements are so slow, or why his hands aren't clenched into fists.

His fingers tangle in Piers' dark hair, and Piers feels a flicker of something that's a cross between panic and hope. Before Piers can question it, Dudley pulls him closer, and their lips meet.

This is not what Piers imagined his first kiss with a bloke would be like. It is sloppy and drunken—more teeth than tongue. But it is better than the beating he had expected, and he finds himself melting into it.

"Good," Dudley says when he breaks the kiss. A small smile plays at his lips.

"Good," Piers echoes, relief rushing through him.

He sets the nearly full bottle aside, unable to fight the grin. He has found a new sense of bliss, and, for once, it doesn't involve even a drop of alcohol.


	88. Don't Let Go

_Auction: LeeRoxanne_

 _Amber's Attic (quote below)_

 _Ami's Audio, Wright On "I heard the quit in your voice."_

 _Buttons: topaz_

 _Word Count: 408_

* * *

" _Fear is only a verb if you let it be. Don't you dare let go of my hand."_

 _-Andrea Gibson_

* * *

Roxanne feels the flutter of nerves tickle her insides. Her topaz eyes flicker to Lee, and her full lips twitch like she wants to smile but doesn't know how. "You're sure you want to arrive together?" she asks.

This isn't the first time they've attended her family barbecues. Lee has always been a fixture at Weasley gatherings. But this will be the first time they've dared to be public. For the past two years, she has contented herself with stealing glances and sharing knowing smiles with her dad's best friend.

Lee lifts her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Yes."

"Why?"

They've fought about it before. She wants to be able to be with him. She's tired of their time together being limited to nights spent in her flat, keeping an eye for anyone who might discover the truth. But she's dealt with it because she loves him. If he isn't ready, she can respect that.

"Last night…" He inhales deeply, shaking his head. His dreadlocks fall in face, but he pushes them away, sighing heavily. "I heard the quit in your voice, Roxy. I know you're miserable, having to keep things on the down low, and it isn't fair."

She opens her mouth to reassure him, but her words seem to fail her. "I'm not miserable with you," she manages, and her voice is barely above a whisper.

"You're miserable with the secrecy," he says, and she nods. "I didn't want… It's complicated because…"

He trails off. She nods again. Of course she understands how difficult it must be for him. It's more than just the age difference; he's her dad's best friend. Loving Lee has so many risks attached, but she thinks he's worth it.

"You don't have to," she says.

He offers her a crooked grin, offering her hand a quick, gentle squeeze. "I want to." He takes another deep breath, and it's only now that she realizes how much he's trembling. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared half to death."

Roxanne stands on her tiptoes, kissing him gently and quickly on the lips. She can't help but smile. She's scared too, but she feels like she can conquer the fear if Lee is by her side. "I won't let go."

He nods and takes a step forward.


	89. Learning to Live

_Auction: CedricChoMarietta_

 _Disney, Winnie the Pooh: Write about someone happy with life._

 _Book Club, Mama-ji: goddess, blood red, familiar_

 _Word Count: 334_

* * *

For a second, she is almost jealous. Sometimes it's easy to give in, to forget that she has chosen this life of unconventional love. The Yule Ball is supposed to be a night of happiness, but bitterness threatens to take hold.

But then she sees the way Cho smiles as Cedric spins her, and Marietta begins to melt. A familiar warmth floods her body. She is so in love with Cho that all she wants is to see her happy.

As if she can sense Marietta's longing, Cho comes over, pulling Cedric along. He offers Marietta a shy smile. When Cho had first explained to him that she's polyamorous, he had seemed nervous. It's been a few weeks since that day, and he hasn't quite relaxed, but it's okay. He'll get used to it.

Marietta kisses Cho gently on the lips before kissing Cedric on the cheek, her blood red painted lips tugging into a smile as she pulls away. "You looked so handsome out there." Her gaze shifts to Cho. "And you look like an absolute goddess. Cedric, babe, can I steal her for a dance?"

He doesn't look too happy at that. Marietta understands. Sometimes, even if you have multiple partners, it can be lonely. She still has to keep her jealousy in check from time to time.

She offers Cedric a sweet smile, and he softens. She knows he doesn't like her the way he likes Cho. Cedric wants Cho, and Marietta is just an added bonus. Still, he likes her, and that's enough.

With a quick wink, she pats his cheek before taking Cho's hand. "Don't worry. I'll get her back to you before you know it," she assures him before leading her girlfriend back onto the dancefloor.

It isn't a perfect romance. Sometimes it feels more like a burden than a joy. But it doesn't matter. In this moment, life is beautiful. She is in love with Cho; they have a future with Cedric. She couldn't ask for more.


	90. Shiver

_Auction: First kiss_

 _Character Appreciation: Oliver Wood_

 _Book Club, Laura Moon: cold, gold, nighttime_

 _Word Count: 470_

* * *

Katie knows she shouldn't be terribly upset. This is hardly the first time practice has gone longer than expected. Still, she can't help but feel a bit annoyed by the night sky when the team finally gets dismissed. The cold breeze that caresses her skin and chills her to the bone doesn't make things much better.

"Cold?" Oliver asks, offering her a bright grin.

Katie wants to say something rude, but her words fail. There's something about him that seems to melt away her annoyance. Maybe it's the dimples or the cute, puppy dog eyes. In the back of her mind, she wonders how anyone can stay mad at him for long. It seems impossible.

"A bit, yeah," she admits.

His grin softens to an apologetic smile. He slides his jacket off and drapes it around her shoulders. "There. That should keep you warm."

"You didn't have to…"

It's a nice gesture, but it makes her cheeks flush with heated color. Katie takes a deep breath. The jacket smells like him. Warm cedar, hints of lavender and sweat. It shouldn't be such a hypnotic combination, but it is. Her mind begins to wander and drift, and she doesn't even realize that Oliver has come to a sudden stop until she collides with him. "Sorry."

He doesn't respond. His eyes are fixed upon hers, and Katie wants to melt. No one has ever looked at her like this before. A thousand butterflies seem to flutter around in her stomach, tickling her insides. Why does he make her so nervous.

Oliver reaches out. His thumb brushes over one of his jacket's gold buttons. "It looks really good on you," he tells her, and her blush deepens until her face feels like it's on fire.

Before she can respond, Oliver leans in. His lips press against hers, and she feels like she might melt into a puddle. She's never been kissed before, and she curses herself for being so inexperienced. If Oliver has a problem with it, though, he doesn't say anything.

When he pulls away, a small smile plays at his lips. "Sorry," he murmurs. "I've wanted to do that for a while."

For several moments, Katie can't speak. She touches the tips of her fingers to her lips, trying to comprehend what's just happened. Finally, she manages to smile. "I don't mind," she says, amazed that her voice still works. "I'm glad you did."

His smile broadens, forming a grin. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And that's all he seems to need. Oliver leans in again. This time, Katie is ready. It isn't a perfect kiss, and she feels like she has a long way to go before she can be considered a good kisser. Still, she doesn't mind. Practice makes perfect, and she is lucky enough to get to practice with Oliver Wood.


	91. Lost and Found

_Book Club, Tala: safe, smiling, burn_

 _Character Appreciation: Ernie MacMillan_

 _Shannon's Showcase, Macedonia: Lost and Sound, swing_

 _Buttons: feather, chime_

 _Word Count: 385_

* * *

He finds her in the park where they used to play as children. Susan sits on the swing, her long, slender legs kicking back and forth, though she isn't putting much effort into going high. A smile tugs at Ernie's lips as he makes his way closer. "Some things never change," he comments.

Susan skids to a stop, kicking up a cloud of dust. A soft pink creeps into her cheeks. "Lots of things change," she mutters.

Ernie shrugs, bending down and plucking a feather from the ground. "Remember when we were kids?" he laughs, stepping closer and tucking the feather in Susan's auburn hair, just behind her ear. "This was always our safe place. No bad things could happen to us here. We had our little games."

His cheeks burn as he as thinks about it. He and Susan would always come here, and they'd make a game out of escaping the real world. First one to find a feather, rock, flower, and mushroom would win. It seems silly now, but it had made things so much simpler back then. Maybe it won't fix everything, but he hopes it will make things a little brighter for her, if only for a moment.

Susan laughs, the sound like a delicate chime. She pulls the feather from her hair, tracing a finger over the downy fluff at the bottom. "Thank you," she says quietly. "You're the only who hasn't tried to…"

She trails off, clearing her throat. But Ernie understands. She's just lost her aunt, and he knows everyone is looking at her with pity in their eyes, like their condolences mean a thing.

Without really thinking about it, he leans in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Susan touches her fingers to her lips, brows raised and eyes wide. Ernie swallows dryly, looking pointedly at his feet. "Sorry," he mumbles. "I shouldn't have done that."

She takes his hand, sliding off the swing. Her arms wrap around him, and she rests her head against his chest. "I liked it," she assures him. "Do it again?"

And he does. And maybe it doesn't take away the pain of loss and fear of the upcoming war, but it's enough to take them back to better days when the world wasn't so dark, and everything was okay.


	92. Admissions

Book Club, The Blue Man: exotic, blue, freak

Character Appreciation: Hogwarts

Disney: "What do you want me to do? Dress in drag and do the hula?"

Shannon's Showcase, Belarus: magnificent, rose

Sophie's Shelf, Detective Durpin: "Its not cool to disagree with me."

Word Count: 443

* * *

"Tonks? Hey…"

She looks up, scowling. Ordinarily, she wouldn't mind Charlie's company, but she can't stand the thought of being around anyone right now. "Hey," she echoes, the bitterness clear in her tone.

And yet part of her wants to melt. No one else can intrude on her secret hiding place without getting hexed into oblivion. Charlie Weasley has always been special enough to be the exception to the rule.

Tonks bites the inside of her cheek, tugging nervously at her turquoise blue hair. She had always feared she would be considered a freak for her ability. It didn't matter how many people used lovely words like exotic, she still felt insecure. Charlie had helped her through that. He's the only one she's allowed to break down her barriers and try.

"Rose, chocolate," he says, holding each item up in turn, a grin on his lips. "Tried to sneak some wine, but the house-elves weren't cooperative today."

Tonks can't help but to smile, the smallest of laughs spilling from her lips. Only moments ago, she had been eager to drown in her misery and curse David Ogden for cheating on her. Now, Charlie has made things feel a little better.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks, sitting next to her. "Dress in drag and do the hula? Because I look damn good in a skirt."

Her laugh is louder now, stronger. "That would be a glorious sight," she snorts. "Absolutely magnificent."

She takes the rose from his hand and lifts it to her nose, inhaling the sweet aroma. "Why are you so nice to me?"

"Because you deserve it."

Tonks rolls her eyes. "I don't," she says. "I'm not special."

"You are. And it's not cool to disagree with me," he counters, smirking.

"No one ever accused me of being cool," she laughs, shaking her head. "What's the real reason? Everyone deserves to be treated nicely. Why do you make such an effort with me?"

Charlie wraps an arm around her. "Maybe I fancy you," he says. "Maybe I have for the past four years, and I don't know how to tell you."

"I think you just did."

Charlie grins and leans back, pushing his free hand through his red hair. "Yeah," he agrees with a chuckle. "I did."

"Good. Because I fancy you too."

For several moments, neither speak. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of comfortable silence, Charlie leans in, kissing her cheek. "Wanna try to steal some wine? I think if you distract them, I can manage."

"You know me too well."

And, as they often do, her problems seem to fade away with Charlie around.


	93. Wrong

Pokemon Challenge, JohnAmelia: harmony, "They say that opposites attract.", embarrassment

Book Club, Dominguez: navy, coworkers, envelope

Character Appreciation: Amelia Bones

Disney, Can You Feel the Love Tonight: Write about the moment where things change

Word Count: 534

* * *

"Come on, Milly."

Amelia inhales sharply, trying to remind herself that she needs to keep calm when dealing with John. He means well, but he can be quite the handful some days. "Amelia," she corrects, plucking an envelope from the pile of notes and reports on her desk.

"Milly," he says stubbornly, and she wants more than anything to hex him, "I'm asking you very seriously. Why won't you give me a chance? They say opposites attract. Can we test that theory?"

"We work together. It was disrupt the harmony of the workplace, Dawlish." She doesn't bother to remind him that she is the head of the department. Just entertaining the idea of a date with him is completely inappropriate.

"I'm not asking to shag you senseless in your office," he says dryly, leaning in and resting his hands on her desk, knocking over her ink in the process.

Amelia scowls, quickly waving her wand and muttering the charm to siphon the navy ink, then vanishing the traces that stain the papers on her desk. She should say no. There's no reason to even pretend that this is a good idea. So why is she so tempted?

"I'm preparing shepherd's pie for dinner tonight," she tells him. "Bring the wine.'

…

Her head is still spinning from the wine, but everything feels okay. John is at her side, and maybe she should panic, but she doesn't. She trails her fingertips lightly over his bare chest, a satisfied smile on her lips.

"This is so inappropriate," she chuckles.

She should care; she knows she should. But she doesn't.

John rolls onto his side, pressing a firm kiss to her mouth. In the back of her head, she knows it's wrong, that everything is changing between them, and she should stop it before things go any further.

But she doesn't want to. Amelia has spent far too long rejecting him but always wanting him, always wishing things could be different. Now, she embraces the change.

…

"Milly!"

Amelia ducks her head, her cheeks burning. Without a word, she turns on her heel, quickening her pace.

Last night had been a mistake. And now she has to see him, and she doesn't know how to cope. Embarrassment causes her stomach to twist into knots.

"Milly!"

She slips into her office, but he's right behind her, in the doorway before she can try to shut him out.

"Amelia," he says softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him, "is there any particular reason you're avoiding me? You couldn't get me out of your house quick enough this morning."

"We shouldn't have done that."

"Why not?"

A million excuses flood her mind, but she can't bring herself to voice them. When she fails to speak, John pulls her closer, kissing her. Her worries seem to melt away, if only for a moment.

"It's wrong," she sighs when they break away. "But I don't care."

It isn't how it's supposed to be, but Amelia accepts it. She's spent so long clinging to the way things ought to be that she's allowed herself to neglect her own desires.

Now, she will get what she wants. She will embrace this change.


	94. Save You

_Pokemon Challenge, DracoTheo: teal, nonsense, "Because I care about you, I'm asking you to leave this alone."_

 _Character Appreciation: Trio Era_

 _Shannon's Showcase, Switzerland: "Sins of the father make us fall. And I can't do anything about it.", attack_

 _Book Club, Eddie: birthday, nightmare, forgiveness_

 _Showtime, Valjean's Soliloquy: "Is there another way?"_

 _Ami's Audio, Old School: traitor_

 _Photography, monochrome photography: Write about someone who is downcast or depressed_

 _Word Count: 627_

* * *

"My aunt sent me cupcakes for my birthday," Theo says awkwardly, lifting the cupcake and resisting the urge to swipe his tongue over the teal frosting.

Draco's eyes flicker in his direction for a fraction of a second. "Happy birthday," he says with clear disinterest.

Theo sighs, setting the cupcake down on the table next to the blond before sitting across from him. He glances around quickly, but the common room is empty apart from them. He bites the inside of his cheek, wringing his hands together as he ponders the right words to say.

After two years of dating Draco, Theo knows how sensitive he can be. Even if Draco won't admit it, saying the wrong thing can cause him to snap. But Theo can't just stay silent. He's spent the past three months watching his boyfriend fade away, and he doesn't think he can take it anymore. He wants to see Draco smile again; knowing his boyfriend is struggling with some emotional battle breaks Theo's heart, and be doesn't think he can take it anymore. He needs _his_ Draco back.

"People are talking, you know."

Draco holds his gaze now, his brows raising. "Why does that surprise you?" he asks dryly. "People always talk." His apathetic tone sounds a little too forced, flimsy, hollow.

"They're talking about you."

"And it's nonsense, I'm sure."

"They're saying you're a Death Eater."

Draco's pale cheeks flush with color, and his nostrils flare. Within seconds, however, he's composed again, though Theo can see the anger in those icy eyes. "Are they?"

"Yes. Draco…"

"Because I care about you, I'm asking you to leave this alone."

"I can't."

He knows it isn't his place or his business. Still, Draco is so young, and his constant haunted eyes tell Theo everything he needs to know. Draco never chose this life; the Dark Lord forced him into it. It isn't terribly surprising. Lucius Malfoy, Theo's father says, has been disgraced. Draco's waking nightmare is punishment for his father's sins.

"Is there another way?" Theo asks, reaching out and taking Draco by the hand.

Maybe Theo shouldn't care so much. His own father is a Death Eater, after all. He's meant to support this cause; he should be proud that his boyfriend cares so much about the preservation of magical kind that he's fighting.

But he can't bring himself to feel pride. There is no way this will end well. If trying to save Draco leads to his boyfriend hating him, Theo will ask for forgiveness later. For now, he has to try.

"I've already made my choice," Draco says quietly, losing all fight from his voice. "Traitors don't live very long. I rather like being alive."

Theo relaxes. At least Draco doesn't think he's trying to attack him. That's progress. But still. The hopelessness in the other boy's voice causes his heart to shatter. He wants nothing more than for Draco to be happy, for this nightmare to finally end.

He climbs to his feet and closes the distance between them. Taking Draco gently by the hands, he guides him to his feet and presses a gentle, chaste kiss to his thin lips. "I don't like it," he says softly. "I know you, and I know your heart. This wasn't your choice."

"Drop it."

Theo pushes his fingers through Draco's hair, kissing his forehead. "I won't stop you. At least if I have worry, I'll know you're alive. That sure as hell beats the alternative."

This isn't Draco's fault. There's nothing to be done when you're forced to bear your father's burden.

Maybe it's going to hurt, but Theo will stay by his side. He loves him too much to give up, and he will help Draco find his brighter days again.


	95. Busted

_Pokemon Challenge, TeddyMolly II: patience, "I'm going to sit back and listen to the world for a little while. Care to join?", Stupefy_

 _Character Appreciation: Teddy Lupin_

 _Book Club, Captain: cigarette, captivity, Neville Longbottom_

 _Word Count: 472_

* * *

" _Stupefy!_ " Molly groans when, for the sixteenth time that night, her spell fails. "I can't do it."

She tries to keep the bitterness from her voice, but it's hard. If she's going to sneak out, she should at least do something productive and worthwhile. Instead, she's just continued to fail, on top of breaking curfew. She doesn't know which makes her feel more disappointed.

"Maybe we should head back," she decides in a miserable sigh.

She doesn't want to. Part of her feels like a creature held in captivity when she's trapped in the dormitory at night. There's something about nighttime that makes her come alive, and she's spent too many nights feeling like she's going to come out of her skin; she needs freedom, even if it means breaking all the rules.

Teddy shrugs, stretching his long legs, nearly laying on the window sill. His patience has been amazing, and Molly isn't sure what she would do without him. "I'm going to sit back and listen to the world for a little while. Care to join?" he asks, plucking a cigarette from his pocket and fitting it between his lips.

Molly doesn't know why he does that; he never lights up, only calls it a metaphor. She's long since given up trying to understand why he does anything. As amazing as her boyfriend maybe be, he has a wealth of quirks that she has come to find endearing. She approached him, and he shifts over, letting his legs dangle so that she can sit next to him.

Teddy wraps his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I had trouble with that spell too," he assures her, stroking her dark copper curls. "You'll get the hang of it."

She snorts. "Hope so."

Teddy leans in, pulling her closer. His lips are inches from hers when they hear the door open and someone clears their throat. Molly quickly breaks away from Teddy, her cheeks on fire. Professor Longbottom stands in the doorway, arms folded over his chest, an amused smile on his lips. Molly groans. Of all the professors who could have walked in on them, why did it have to be the one who regularly visits with her family?

"If you two are going to break curfew, at least make sure you don't give yourselves away," Professor Longbottom advises with a soft laugh, gesturing at the candle Molly had been using for light.

"Oops," Teddy says, grinning.

Professor Longbottom shakes his head. "Indeed. Now, I'm going to turn my back on this very empty classroom, and I'm going to find it still empty when I turn back around," he tells them, turning slowly.

Molly takes Teddy by the hand, and the two hurry off. A smile tugs at her lips. Maybe the night isn't as miserable as she'd thought.


	96. Scarves and Clumsy Witches

_Pokemon Challenge, KingsleyTonks: natural, turquoise, putting a scarf around someone's neck_

 _Book Club, Joe: baseball, "[Name] met a girl last night.", battery_

 _Word Count: 536_

* * *

Kingsley doesn't know what to make of the newest addition to the Aurors. Nymphadora Tonks is ridiculously clumsy, and her shocking turquoise hair isn't exactly the most natural shade. Still, he doesn't argue as she plucks a strange white ball with red laces from her pocket, tossing it from hand to hand as Mad-Eye briefs them on the raid.

If Alastor Moody says the girl is good, Kinglsey has no choice but to believe him.

His eyes continue to flicker toward her. It's inappropriate. She is his colleague, not some pretty thing on display. Cheeks heating, he forces his attention back to Alastor who holds up a strange metal cylinder.

"It's called a battery," he explains. "Someone has been filling these with an Exploding Potion so that the Muggles who use them… Well, poor bastards…"

"Isn't this a job for Misuse of Muggle Artefacts?" Dawlish asks with a bored yawn. "We don't handle tampered Muggle objects."

Mad-Eyes stalks closer with a growl. "Sure. If we didn't know who was doing it. But we do, and we're making a big arrest. Got it?" He turns, looking at each Auror in turn; they all not their compliance. "Right. Well, everyone in position."

Kingsley moves toward the front. Over the years, they've liked having him in this position. They say his presence is reassuring, that even the most hardened criminals would be tempted to stop and listen to his deep, soothing voice.

"Wait! It's cold out there!" Nymphadora hurries toward him, nearly stumbling over her own feet. "Oops! Sorry."

Kingsley catches her before she can fall, steadying her with a grin. "Alright?"

"Wotcher," she says with a radiant smile, and there's no denying that Kingsley is melting now. Nymphadora summons a scarf with a quick wave and incantation. Still smiling, she carefully places it around his neck. "There. Better."

"Thanks, Nymphadora."

Her hair darkens to an angry shade of red, and Kingsley understands why Alastor saw so much potential. An actual metamorphmagus is rare.

"Don't call me Nymphadora," she says darkly, a scowl twisting her lips. "It's just Tonks."

Kingsley chuckles softly. "Well, just Tonks, thank you for the scarf."

Her expression softens, and she almost looks sheepish. Tonks offers him a quick wave before hurrying to her position. As she passes by the others, she doesn't offer their unprotected necks scarves.

He wonders what that means.

…

"Look at that smile, Hawa," Auntie Siti says as Kingsley joins her and his mother in the kitchen. "Asim met a girl last night."

Kingsley tries not to roll his eyes. He may be a grown man, but Auntie Siti still terrifies him.

"Siti, don't tease him," his mother says, offering him a kind smile as she spoons rice into three bowls.

"I know love when I see it, Hawa. Look at him!"

"It wasn't last night," he murmurs. "It was morning."

His aunt cackles, a grin on her lips. "What did I tell you? Well, Asim, tell me about my future niece!"

As his mother hums and drizzles a traditional African soup over the rice, Kinglsey contemplates how to describe Tonks. In the end, he can only answer with a smile because there are no words to do her justice.


	97. Laughter

_Pokemon Challenge, RemusSirius: underwear, bowtie, laughing_

 _Showtime, Turning: "Did you see them?"_

 _Film Festival: joke_

 _Word Count: 334_

* * *

"Did you see them? I can't believe they really put that under there," Sirius says, deliberately keeping his sentence as vague as possible.

Remus' clever eyes narrow, and Sirius can practically hear his thoughts. Suspicion seems to dance across Remus' tawny eyes. There's something close to regret in his voice as he sighs and asks, "Under where? What are you talking about?"

"Mate!" Sirius doubles over, clapping and laughing. "I made you say underwear."

His boyfriend rolls his eyes. Remus reaches out and straightens Sirius' bowtie, his lips pulled into a thin line, though there's a flicker of amusement in his gaze. "Please be serious."

With a smirk, Sirius wraps an arm around Remus, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm always _Sirius_ ," he points out, trying to keep a straight face. "It's my name, Moony."

He can see Remus' determination not to give in. There's the smallest of twitches at the corner of his lips, but he somehow keeps his composure. Sirius doesn't understand how he does that.

"Name jokes?" Remus muses, rolling his eyes. He ruffles Sirius' dark, shaggy hair. "I thought your humor would have advanced beyond that. Bit easy, isn't it?"

"Know what else is easy?" Sirius asks, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Before Remus can answer, James hurries over. He's still grinning and giddy, and Sirius thinks it's adorable. He's glad James is happy on his wedding day.

"You two gonna stop standing around?" James asks. "Lily wants to throw the bouquet."

Sirius plans to be compliant, but and idea strikes, and he can't resist. He offers the others a grand, dramatic bow, grinning broadly. "Excellent! I hope I catch it. Always wanted to be a June bride."

It's quite possibly his weakest joke. Really, he doesn't even find it funny at all. Remus, on the other hand, cracks, and a sputtering laugh escapes his lips.

Grinning victoriously, Sirius sprints forward, wedging his way between Alice and Marlene. He doesn't care that he doesn't catch the bouquet. Remus laughed, and that's all that matters.


	98. Holiday Fantasy

_Pokemon Challenge: OliverCedric, puddle, going on holiday, leather trousers_

 _Character Appreciation: first love_

 _Showtime, Castle on a Cloud: dreaming of someone_

 _Note: Obviously this is an AU where Cedric lives_

 _Word Count: 316_

* * *

" _What do you think?" Oliver asks, stepping out of the bathroom._

 _Cedric swallows dryly, trying and failing to remember how to speak. The words refuse to fall from his lips as Oliver turns this way and that, showing off the tight leather trousers that hug his toned legs._

" _You look good in those," he finally manages._

 _Oliver moves closer, wrapping his arms around Cedric, a wicked grin on his lips. "Wanna find out how good I look without them, Cedric?"_

"Cedric? Ced?"

With a groan, Cedric sits up, a burning blush staining his cheeks. The real world comes into focus again, and he realizes it had all just been a dream. Oliver, the boy he's loved since he was eleven, is still there, but he is most certainly not wearing anything leather.

"Where are we?" he mutters, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

Going on holiday had been Oliver's idea. He hadn't even let Cedric plan a single detail. He said he wanted to properly surprise Cedric and give him a week of no stress, no decisions, just fun.

"Spoilers," Oliver chuckles, pressing a finger his lips and offering Cedric a conspiring wink. "Were you having a good dream? The noises you were making were ungodly."

Cedric's cheeks seem to grow hotter. Tugging at the collar of his shirt, he clears his throat. "I, um… I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"You were drooling too," Oliver adds as he helps Cedric to his feet before grabbing their luggage. "Damn near formed a puddle with your drool."

Cedric scowls. "Shove off."

"Must have been a damn good dream."

Before Cedric can respond, Oliver hurries off. Cedric follows behind him, unable to resist a grin.

He still doesn't know where they are, but there's sunshine and fresh air, and his boyfriend is by his side. The day couldn't get any better.

Except, perhaps, a pair of leather trousers.


	99. X My Heart

_Chocolate Frogs, Hannah Abbott: Write about Hannah Abbott_

 _Character Appreciation: Hannah Abbott_

 _Disney, losing a parent: Write about a character losing a parent_

 _Shannon's Showcase, Azerbaijan: moon, X My Heart_

 _Showtime, Empty Chairs at Empty Tables: grief_

 _Lyric Alley: And I heard your voice_

 _Photography, Abstract photography: Use no dialogue in your story_

 _Film Festival: positive_

 _Word Count: 314_

* * *

Susan follows her out when she gets the news. Hannah can feel her world shattering, but her girlfriend is there, holding her close. It doesn't make the pieces fit back together, but maybe she feels a little less broken as Susan's voice somehow pierces the veil of grief.

Her mother is gone. Her mother, the woman Hannah as idolized for so long, who taught Hannah how to love and be good, is dead, and there's no bringing her back.

Susan doesn't try to offer her empty words about how everything will be okay again. Her words are like the moon, like some beacon of light and hope calling Hannah home, telling her that it's okay to hurt, that it's okay to fall apart. And Hannah crashes into her, relishing the sweet kisses Susan trails across her cheeks and the gentle touches that make her think that the world may be falling apart, but she will get through this. Maybe she won't make it out without fresh scars upon her heart, but she will carry on with Susan by her side, and that makes life a little easier, if only barely.

She's breaking, but Susan is strong.

Susan's slender fingers are gentle as they push through Hannah's blonde hair. She presses kiss after kiss to Hannah's lips, cheeks, forehead, and nose, and Hannah can feel the tension slowly leave her body.

Susan does not promise brighter days or the cure for a broken heart. Instead, she whispers promises about how she isn't going anywhere, about how they will figure this out together, and she tells Hannah again and again that she loves her.

It isn't perfect, and it does nothing to numb the pain. But it's a start, and Hannah thinks that she can heal.

Maybe there are no brighter days in her immediate future, but she's positive Susan can at least help her pretend.


	100. Addiction

_Pokemon Challenge: NevilleBlaise, distracted, Lumos, victorious_

 _Character Appreciation: Dumbledore's Army_

 _Showtime, The Final Battle: 1998_

 _Buttons: Voldemort wins!AU_

 _Ami's Audio, Survivors: cigarette_

 _Word Count: 392_

* * *

 _A/N: So here we are. Drabble 100. Time to call it a day and start another story. And yes, there will always be a collection for pairing drabbles that don't quite fit anywhere else._

 _Thank you to all the readers, especially to the loyal guest who left so many lovely reviews. So much love!_

* * *

Blaise knows the others don't trust him. By now, he's used to it. To the rest of Dumbledore's Army, he is little more than another Slytherin; in their eyes, he is dangerous.

But he doesn't care. Let them think what they want. He knows his own heart, and it isn't his problem that they can't get past their own prejudices. With the Dark Lord victorious, he has bigger things weighing on his mind.

Taking a deep drag from his cigarette, he ambles along, letting the smoke burn his lungs. He's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize he isn't the only one walking the perimeter of the makeshift camp.

"Bad habit, Zabini."

He swears under his breath, lifting his wand, ready to hex the speaker.

" _Lumos."_ Neville's wand glows, and he grins.

"Speaking of bad habits," Blaise says dryly, "I would suggest not sneaking around in the middle of the bloody night, Longbottom."

But the tension between them doesn't last long. Neville throws his arms around Blaise, holding him close. With a shiver, Blaise presses his lips to the Gryffindor's.

It's amazing how much has changed in the two months since that fateful battle. Harry Potter is dead, the Dark Lord has won, and Blaise Zabini is sleeping with who he once thought to be the enemy. He isn't quite sure how it happened. One moment, he'd been gripped by nightmares, screaming as he relived Theo's death. The next, Neville was at his side, and Blaise clung to him out of desperation.

He doesn't know why he still clings to him now. Perhaps Neville and his hopeless cause have become as much an addiction as his cigarettes. Perhaps he just needs someone. Whatever the reason, he doesn't see himself giving Neville up any time soon.

"You taste like tobacco," Neville notes, his nose wrinkling as he pulls away.

Blaise offers him a smile that's almost apologetic before shrugging his shoulders. "In this world, our addictions keep us sane," he mutters.

Neville takes his hand, a small smile on his lips. "Yeah. They do."

And it takes Blaise far too long to realize that Neville shouldn't know anything about addiction. He doesn't drink, doesn't smoke. But his eyes remain fixed upon Blaise, and Blaise understands.

Neville's addiction is a Slytherin dressed in green and silver but with a heart of gold.


End file.
